Scars, Run Deep
by DcOliver FanFiction
Summary: Two people, laced together by the marks of tragedy on their skin. Christian and Ana's paths cross as children, with devastating results. Thinking, that the person who saved your life is dead, consumes you with guilt, regret and remorse. What happens when there is a glimmer of hope?
1. Chapter 1 - Nightmares

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Hi, all.

Anyone, that has taken the time to read any of my stories, knows that I love to wallow. I find it really easy to do and something I strangely enjoy, which is surprising as I'm quite upbeat and chirpy. I promise.

There will be angst in this story, but it's told in childhood flashbacks and will be over after the first few chapters. This story is then set during present day, and will be a HEA.

This story, is mainly told from Ana's point of view, but there will be snippets of Christian's thoughts and reactions to things as we go along, and as we all know, he loves to brood.

This story is OCC. Both main characters have different back stories and meet under different circumstances.

Getting them together is the main drive for me when writing, once I have them together and you know they're going to marry, have kids, etc, etc, I tend to get bored. Even when I'm reading it's the same. The buzz of first contact is it for me. So I warn you now, it's a slow burn getting them together.

The heart of this story came to me in a dream and I thought, what the hell, if it's good enough for Stephanie Meyer, then it's good enough for me.

E L James, owns these wonderful characters. I just took them, shook them, then let them fall where they may.

Thanks SM.

Enjoy.

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 _._

 ** _Scars. Run Deep._**

 _._

Scars, are more than just physical reminders of the past on the skin. They go deeper than that, much, much deeper. They bind people. Ensnare lives, keeping you locked and entwined together for years... Without even knowing it.

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Chapter One.

Nightmares.

 _ **Ana.**_

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As the high pitched, blood curdling screams vibrate around the room, they penetrate my eardrums, bringing me back to the here and now. I jolt awake abruptly, my entire body convulsing violently and painfully as I clutch my throat, gasp for breath and attempt to climb out of bed. I struggle, nearly toppling to the floor.

My movements are hindered by my nightdress and bed sheets that have both become twisted and wrapped tightly around my lower legs. My blankets, long ago discarded, are in a heap on the floor. A sure sign that during the few short hours I've managed to get some sleep, I've been writhing.

I feel a shiver run through me and hope that it's caused by the draft from the open window, but as the temperature of the room registers on my skin, I realize that I'm not shivering, I'm violently shaking.

Freeing my feet from their cotton confines, I draw my knees up close to my chest. Hugging them tightly, I rest my clammy brow against them and follow my normal routine. I take deep, held, counted, well practiced breaths, while trying to focus on something serene. I'm hoping to calm myself, clear my head of my nightmares and erase my inner torment, but I don't know why I'm even trying, it never works. Why should tonight be any different?

"Will this never end?" I question the empty room. My voice, thick with desperation.

I shake my head, resigned to my fate and what I have to live with. How could this ever end, I don't deserve for it to end. I'm only fooling myself if I think I could ever be free of this...free of him.

After a few minutes of breathing deeply, I'm feeling calmer and a little more like myself. Uncurling my stiff body, I realize that my clothes and bedding are soaked with sweat, sticking to me, making me feel even more uncomfortable than I already am. I need to move from this bed, I know I do, but the fatigue from only having three hours sleep, every night, for nearly a week, is starting to take its toll on me.

Acknowledging what I have to do, I release the grip I have on myself and slowly begin to climb from the bed. I feel physically exhausted. My legs are weak, my arms feel heavy, making my movements slow and sluggish, but this isn't a new experience for me. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

Once I'm standing and feel sure that my body will support its self, I begin to pull the damp bedding from the bed. Once I have it gathered into a tight ball in my arms, I head into the bathroom and toss it in the direction of the laundry hamper. After turning on the over head light, I rid myself of my clothes and head for the shower.

Unintentionally, I catch a glimpse of myself in the vanity mirror as I cross the room. I'm hardly surprised by what I see, but it's still a shocking sight and causes me to gasp. My hair is lank, greasy, stuck to my head with perspiration. My skin is pale, grey and sallow looking. Probably due to the dark shadows that are permanently present on my skin lately, but it's my eyes, that shock me the most. I shake my head and pull my gaze away from the tired, lifeless orbs staring back at me.

Switching on the shower, I step under the water, not even waiting for it to reach a comfortable temperature. I hold still, unaware of anything around me until the water heats and finally penetrates my skin and seeps into my bones. I feel the warmth as it eases, and when my body finally feels like it's no longer shuddering internally, I find the strength to move.

My hands run all over my body as I soap myself up, eradicating and easing any lingering sweat and tension away as they go. I catch my fingers pausing, wanting to linger on my chest, but I swiftly force my hands up and away into my hair.

My skin burns, yearns to be touched, but I don't need to touch, to know that it's there. The smooth, pink, one inch indentation that lives on my skin just above my heart, will always be with me. Despite all the heartbreak and torment it's brought me over the years, it's a part of me and I wouldn't want it any other way if the truth were told.

On autopilot, I step out of the shower, dry myself off, then dress in clean pajamas. Reluctantly, my mind wanders and begins to dredge over the past few nights as I carry out the task of drying my hair. I've realized that my dreams, or rather my nightmares, have become more intense lately. Not that they've ever ceased or never been a problem for me, but they seemed to have eased over the years, become more bearable as time went on, but lately, I can't seem to shake them. It takes me hours to rid myself of the feelings they induce, but it's hardly surprising.

My nightmares are more vivid, more consuming right now. It's like I'm reliving that night in full Technicolor and surround sound, every time I close my eyes. I can not only sense everything, I can hear the glass shattering, feel it scratch across my skin as it flies through the air. I can hear the deafening, metal upon metal crunching and crashing noises with so much clarity that my ears pop. I can feel the heat, smell the gasoline. I can feel my fear and hear the chilling screams, echoing around in my head.

I don't feel anger or pity myself regarding my insomnia and the night I can't escape, there's no point. This is who I am, who I've always been, who I always will be. I don't deserve anything less, don't expect anything less. I never will. Nor should I.

I feel the usual regret, remorse and helplessness wash over me as I leave the bathroom and slump onto the edge of my unmade bed. I bury my head in my hands as I squeeze my watering eyes tightly closed, trying my best to contain it all.

The sights, sounds, and horror of that night are nothing, and a complete walk in the park, compared to what always follows after. Once I'm awake, the piercing grey eyes that are so familiar, so haunting, lock with mine behind my lids. For hours. Just like they always do.

After reliving that night, I can never shake them. Can never shake him, but I don't want to. So I live half a life, balancing on the blade of a sword.

I'm haunted by him constantly and deserve to be. I deserve it all. I've earned the unrest, the grief, the pain and guilt that I've had to carry around with me for years. It's only to be expected. I can never move on.

He died because of me. Died, saving me, and every time I close my eyes he's there, haunting me as a result of it. As he should be. As I want him to be.

I can never forget those eyes, can never forget him. I don't ever want too either. I want him to torment me, he has every right to torture me and stay with me forever because...because I killed him, and I can never, ever, forgive myself for that.

 _._

 ** _Christian._**

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As I gasp and take a deep gulp of air, my eyes fly wide open. Eager to take in my surroundings and confirm that what I'm seeing isn't real, I shoot upright in my disheveled, clammy bed. Still disorientated from what I've been reliving, I try to focus on what's around me to ground me and bring me back, but her presence is far too strong.

Clutching my rapidly pounding chest, I try to control my breathing and take back control of my body. I focus on other things, anything, trying to block out the memories and rid myself of the intense flashbacks that are haunting me, but it's useless, I never can. I don't know why I even try anymore. Every night it's the same.

Every night, it's variations of the same intense terror and torment from that night. After all this time, it's hardly anything new, but over the past few nights things have changed, and it's becoming unbearable. My nightmares seem to have shifted, they've changed their focus and altered their meaning. Ultimately, upping their effect and response within me.

Once my pulse has steadied and my body doesn't feel like it's just ran a marathon, I climb from my bed and head over to the full glass windows. I slump forward, resting my forehead and palms against the cool glass, hoping it will chill my skin and clear my head, but it doesn't help. It never does.

I lift my head and look beyond the vista of twinkling lights illuminating Seattle, and just stare into the night sky. Even lost within the black, vastness above, I can still see her. Can still feel her trusting, pleading, terrified blue eyes locked and burning into mine. They haunt me, drive me crazy, torment me at every turn, and why not... I deserve nothing less. I wouldn't want anything less.

The scared but captivating, cerebral blue eyes stay with me as my head lowers and my eyelids drop to blind me. Guilt sweeps through me in waves, consuming every part of me and it's such a powerful feeling that it almost brings me to my knees. Then it's banished, cloaked, pushed aside, and hidden, under deep, deep layers of regret.

It's so easy to do now, I've had years of practice, and honestly, it's the only way I can cope. The only way I can get through this. The only way I can live with what I've done.

My reoccurring nightly terrors, have been more focused on _her_ , over the past few nights. They've homed in on my one Achilles heel and are now soul destroying. I've relived the entire experience from start to finish, time and time again over the years, with only ever minor adjustments or slight variations of that life changing night, but recently, they've changed, and they're worse.

They're giving me faint glimmers of hope, allowing me to play out new scenarios with alternative endings. Raising new questions and increasing my inner heartache, my head swims with the concept of change and being given a second chance. My body fatigues because I know it's futile and I feel myself slump further against the glass. I know what haunts and teases me in my dreams can never be an option for me. How can it? It's impossible. Doesn't stop me from wishing for it though.

The regret I feel from my actions that night, claws at me, leaving behind trails that burn. My head is overrun with the same doubts and frustrations from long ago. If only I'd of tried harder, been stronger, and reacted quicker, this would never have happened. If only, I hadn't of used my knife to help her. If I hadn't, she'd no doubt still be here, living her life, fulfilling her hopes, her dreams... breathing.

Her friends and family would still be intact and happy, not grieving for their lost little girl. I destroyed all of them, destroyed her. I ended the life she had yet to live, and no matter how my dreams may vary and appear different, they will always have the same outcome.

They could never end any other way.

When my knife entered her chest, piercing her heart and ending her short life, I felt it in mine. It plunged hilt deep, locking the darkness into my very soul, destroying it, destroying me... And deservedly so. That night changed me, hardened me, stripped me bare, and as much as it pains me, I wouldn't be without it. I can't be without it.

I will never find redemption or solace for what I did to her that night. I can never earn her forgiveness, or free myself from this constant agony I have to endure because of it. I can never look into her beautiful eyes and tell her how sorry I am, or how I wish things could've turned out differently. I can never do any of these things because she's gone.

She died by my hand and my hand alone and I'll live with that shame, guilt and torment till the day I die. I long for it, expect it, deserve it because I killed her...and I can never find peace within myself because of that.

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	2. Chapter 2 - Reliving

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Chapter Two.

Reliving.

 ** _Ana._**

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After fighting, but losing the battle to obtain more sleep, I finally gave up and left, my freshly made bed. Now, I sit, lost in the dark at the kitchen table, nursing a cold cup of tea. I'm unsure of how long I've been sitting here, but it helps. It always does. I've sat here many a night, lost in my own thoughts and tears. I find it restful, peaceful, here in this cozy, rustic, kitchen. I always have.

Suddenly, the intrusive, and very bright, overhead light comes on. Causing me to involuntarily duck my head and scrunch my eyelids tightly closed. Peeking through my lashes, my eyes soon adjust to the harsh light, and I ease into a soft smile. I feel the wave of comfort that the women I live with always brings with her, flood through me as she enters the room.

"You, okay?" she asks. Kissing the top of my head benevolently as she reaches me.

I give her a little nod. Thankful, that there's no need for me to explain to her, why I'm sitting here in the middle of the night.

"Sorry, if I woke you." I offer an apology for earlier, and mean it, because who knows, how loud I was screaming, or for how long.

"You didn't, it's sun up." she says softly, as she steps away from me.

She heads over to the large window. Opening the heavy, wooden shutters, letting in the morning sunlight. Proving, that another night has passed me by. As she switches off the light and turns on the kettle, it dawns on me that I've been sitting here, longer than I was actually asleep this time. I thought it was only a few hours.

"Bad dreams?" my Aunt Meg whispers, as she replaces my cup with a warm, fresh one.

I nod, smiling gratefully, hugging the cup for warmth. I don't need to add any details, or explain to her what's kept me up. She's heard me enough times over the years to know what my nightmares are about. She's lived through them with me.

As I take in Meg, it amazes me how young she looks. She looks more alive than I do. Her skin is flawless for some one in her late forty's. Her light brown hair, may be touched with grey now, but looks good, high on her head in a messy bun. She's a sturdy woman, but still holds femininity and grace. Her jeans are worn, and work well with her familiar red, plaid shirt and hiking boots. She looks every bit, the mountain loving woman that she is.

The most amazing thing about my aunt Meg, though, is how I can see my dad in her warm blue eyes, when ever she gets annoyed or over excited.

"It's only to be expected at this time of year." the woman in question says soothingly, squeezing my shoulder with compassion and understanding.

"I know," I whisper, always dreading the anniversary of the accident coming around, but this year it's different. "It's been Ten years, this week." I inform her, as if she'd need reminding.

Glancing at the calender on the wall, I sigh heavily. It's the day after tomorrow, to be exact. The week has passed by quicker than I thought. Just like the years.

It shocks me, just how much time has passed. It still feels so painful, so raw... So recent.

"Yes, it has." Meg replies. Her voice holding her own sadness for the loss of her brother.

Taking hold of my hand, she sits down opposite me. I mirror her attempt at a smile, or try to anyway. I suddenly feel very tired, just looking at Meg. She's ready for her day. Her day, at the mountaineering, and outdoor activity center a few miles away, where she will be busy all day, and here's me, still in my pajamas, dropping where I sit.

She looks at me with concern, her eyes creasing and watering with her ever present, worry for me. She's aware of my nightmares and what they consist of, but she doesn't know the true guilt I live with. She doesn't know about the hidden pain that I've carried around with me. Or the regret which has consumed and controlled me.

But I know what she sees when she looks at me.

The constant pain I feel is etched on my face. Leaving me with sallow looking skin, dark shadows under my eyes, and a constant furrowed, looking brow. Even now, she can see my sleepless night all over my face. She doesn't fully understand my heartache, thought. She never could. I've never let her. Never wanted her to know.

She thinks all my pain is for the loss of my step-father, Ray, and a huge part of it does belong to him, but she doesn't know about the boy who lost his life because of me. The boy who died... died, due to my selfishness. She doesn't know how deep the guilt and remorse runs through me for him... Or, how I will never, ever, be able to escape from it... Escape from him.

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I've lived with my step-father's sister, Meg, ever since that life altering night. She took me in without a second thought, knowing I had no one else, after losing my mother to cancer when I was a baby. I can't help but look at her with all the love I feel for her, because I know I would've been lost without her.

She's loved me, brought me up and never resented the disruption to her quiet life, not for a single moment. We're close, have a bond like a true Mother and Daughter and I love her dearly for everything she's ever done for me.

"You have to let all of this go, sweetheart," her soft voice breaks my revere. "I know it's hard and you miss him, especially at this time of year, but your dad... He wouldn't have wanted this life for you."

I nod, knowing what she's saying is true. Ray, would be so disappointed in me if he could see me now, but she doesn't understand my true heartache, or how deep my regret is etched.

"Maybe you should get away for a while, take a trip. Your inheritance is yours, now that you've turned Twenty Two. You've graduated, have no job commitments right now, use it, escape from here for a bit. Blow the cobwebs away." Meg suggests, and I hear the hope in her voice.

"I know I should, and I need to let go... but it still hurts so much, Aunt Meg. It feels like it happened only yesterday... and I..I.." My voice tapers off as I feel my throat constrict painfully and my tears begin to fall, heavy and unhindered.

"I know, my sweet girl. I know." Aunt Meg whispers compassionately, as she stands, walks around the table and offers me a comforting hug.

Without hesitation, I turn in my chair, wrap my arms around her middle and bury my face, and my tears, into her warm, familiar form. She holds me tightly as I cling to her.

"Let it go, Ana." she coos softly.

Using her strength and love to keep me strong. I close my eyes and remember in detail how I came to be here. Allowing myself a rare moment to relive, that dreadful night.

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 _"Come on Annie, we gotta head out." my dad, had shouted from outside, as he finished loading the last of our camping gear into the trunk of the car._

 _"I'm ready." I remember yelling from the house, as I bounded down the stairs two at a time._

 _I was carrying my school backpack. The one, that at the last minute I'd urgently filled with all the things that my young self didn't want to leave behind, or be without. Dad looked at me with a wide grin as he took it from me and placed it in the trunk._

 _I remember him, ruffling my hair fondly as he chuckled down at me. It was such a simple everyday gesture, one he'd used a million times before, but I remember he looked and sounded so happy that day. Thankfully, that memory has stuck with me. Helping, in a fashion, to keep me somewhat sane._

 _School was out for the summer. My dad, had been working a lot, so this vacation was something that we'd both been looking forward to. I remember climbing into the back of the car, full of giddy excitement and hope of fun filled days. Never thinking for a moment that it would be the last time I would ever be in the house I called home. Or, that only days later, I would lose the man that loved me, like I was his true, biological daughter. I never realized at that moment, that my life would never be the same again._

 _I was Eleven, just about to turn Twelve, and as a treat, dad and I were going camping. We were staying close to my dad's sister's house, and were planning on visiting her during our trip. I remember being so excited, because my aunt Meg, lived in a cabin. A cabin, deep in the forest of Washington._

 _As a child, the forest seemed so daunting to me, yet comforting at the same time. The trees, to my young eyes, seemed to reach into the sky forever, and stretched like a carpet for as far as the eye could see from any high vantage point. We were camping in the North Cascades, and at such a young age, it seemed like such an adventure being lost in the tall, never ending trees. And it was... At first._

Now, the forest is still my haven, but also my own living, personal hell. One, I cannot, and will not escape.

 _A few days into our vacation, and after exploring the surrounding forest and doing all the usual camping related stuff, we went to visit Aunt Meg. She lived a few miles away in a small logging town, deep in the Cascades. Dad was eager to get there, and I saw on arrival that he'd conspired with his sister and arranged a surprise for me for my birthday, tomorrow._

 _They'd gotten me a puppy._

 _I remember my deafening, squeals of delight as I ran to her and took her in my arms. I'd hounded my father for months about wanting a pet, needing a companion, and by the looks of it, he'd heard and listened to my plea's. My pup, was a beautiful, black, grey and white Husky, and I was instantly overjoyed._

 _Tess and I were inseparable for the next twenty four hours, and I'd soon fallen in love with my furry, little friend. She made the vacation fun, and gave me a companion to enjoy the time with. Something, that I didn't even realize I was truly missing._

 _Two days before we were due to go home, we were enjoying the sun and spending some time on the lake at the camp site. Dad, was bobbing about in a small fishing boat in front of us, while Tess and I, we're attempting to play fetch along the shoreline. My dad, had surprised me by giving me a tennis ball, and I remember it was so much fun watching Tess run about energetically._

 _Tess, who was still very young and excitable, suddenly got distracted by a large bird that swooped down and settled on the lake. Before I could stop her and despite calling her name repeatedly, she ran from me._

 _She didn't take her eyes off the bird as she ran along the shore, and was soon running along the small, wooden jetty, that protruded a short distance over the water. She didn't even pause for thought in her quest to reach the bird and ran right off the end, sinking like a stone into the water._

 _It seemed like an age before she resurfaced, but once she did, I could see she was struggling. My feet, where rooted to the spot. Sheer terror and the fear from not being able to swim, had my body frozen, but my screams for help, grew louder and louder, with my rising panic._

 _I saw my dad out of my peripheral, dropping his fishing rod, standing up in the boat, and calling my name, frantically. He was too far away to get to us quickly, but he sat back down and began rowing back toward us urgently. My heart was in my mouth as Tess flayed about in the water. Her head, disappearing under the water too many times for her to last much longer. She was growing weak, I could tell._

 _Suddenly, a teenage boy appeared out of nowhere. He ran, without a word or glance toward me, along the wooden jetty, pulling off his T-shirt as he went. He gracefully, dived off the end of the jetty and began to swim the twenty feet or so, toward Tess._

 _Tess, vanished under the water as the boy reached her and I remember seeing his feet rise up above the water as he dived, deep, under the water to reach her. My dad, ceased his yelling, and paused rowing as he looked on, expectantly. The boy, soon reappeared, holding my sodden, sad looking puppy aloft, like the superhero he was._

 _I was instantly awed by the sight of him, and could finally breath, knowing, my pup was going to be okay._

My chest tightens and the deep gulp that catches in my throat, reminds me, even now, that that wasn't the only show of bravery I would see from the boy I met that day.

 _I remember being so grateful for his help, and feeling so ashamed of myself for being scared and not helping him. Or Tess. He never held it against me though, and we shared a joke, that I can't even remember now, as he clambered out of the water. I remember stretching up onto my tiptoes and kissing his still wet cheek as he handed Tess back to me._

 _The boy looked down at me, with wide surprised eyes, but I saw his faint flush and eyes light up with amusement at my actions. We sat, side by side on the jetty for hours after meeting. We shared my lunch, which consisted of juice boxes and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, that I'd made myself that morning. My father, watched us both closely from his boat._

 _We talked, sporadically, about school and things, but mostly just enjoyed the sun and playing about with Tess. She seemed to be fine after her watery ordeal, and had obviously taken a shine to her saviour -just as I had- if her following him about constantly, was any indication of her gratitude toward him._

 _The boy, Christian, was a few years older than me. He seemed so brave and cool, to my young, awed, and impressionable eyes. He was so big and strong, with a crooked smile that lit up his face when he released it. I remember being mesmerized by his hair as it shone like a new penny in the sun, while drying in the breeze._

Looking back, Christian, was probably bored stiff, spending time with me, but there were no other teenagers staying at the camp, barr us, so options were limited for him. He seemed to love playing with Tess, though, and that's probably why he put up with a silly, enraptured girl, following him around the campsite for the next two days.

 _On the day that dad and I, were planning on heading home. I'd already seen Christian and his father leave the site to go fishing. He gave me a half hearted wave as he smiled goodbye, and I remember thinking that despite his smile, he didn't look very happy._

 _Suddenly, his face brightened and his laughter filled the air. He squatted down onto his knees to pet, Tess, who had ran eagerly over to see her new friend and she was all over him. I stared at Christian as his face lit up while he rough and tumbled with her, saying goodbye._

 _I etched his face into my memory as he climbed into the back of his fathers car a few minutes later. He left the site with a brief smile to me and a frown, toward the back of his fathers head._

I thought it would be the last time I'd ever see him... I wish to God, it had of been.

 _Dad and I, enjoyed our last morning together by the lake, but we were both feeling a bit melancholy and decided to visit Aunt Meg, one last time before heading back to Portland. Dad, wanted to complete most of our journey before nightfall and I heard him telling Aunt Meg on our arrival, that we couldn't stay long._

 _It was twilight, when we left._

I immediately feel the pain, the anguish, and deep, deep regret set in as I recall what followed. The tragic accident that followed. The accident, that changed my life forever. I feel aunt Megs hands, stroking my head softly and it gives me the courage to carry on reminiscing. Here, safe in her arms in our kitchen.

Fifteen minutes into our drive home, all hell broke loose.

 _Heading home, I was sitting in the back of the car. Tess, was asleep in a carry crate, strapped securely to the seat beside me. I was singing along to a song on the radio. I was happy, carefree and enjoying the drive and excitement of heading home. I couldn't wait to introduce and share Tess, with my friends._

 _Dad, looked over his shoulder at me as he began to sing along with the familiar chorus of the song. The words, that I knew so well, stuck in my throat as I was suddenly blinded by bright, oncoming headlights. Dad, cursed loudly as he turned the wheel, trying to steer the car away from imminent danger. I remember scowling to myself, not really paying attention to what was happening, because my dad never said bad words._

 _Then, I felt it. The painful, short, sharp tug of the seatbelt as it constricted against my chest. I heard the deafening sound that popped my ears and muffled everything around me. I felt the glass as it shattered, nicking and grazing my skin as it flew through the air. I also remember feeling dizzy and closing my eyes tightly as the car began to spin._

 _The car, came to a complete stop with a sudden, violent jerk. It was so strong it took the wind right out of me. I could feel my body, weightless, swinging around like I was nothing but a rag doll. I opened my eyes and remember feeling panic, when I saw that I was hanging upside down._

 _I felt my hot, heavy tears, run down my brow and into my hair as I frantically pulled on the seatbelt that had me pinned. I was shouting for my dad the whole time, and it didn't really register that he wasn't answering me, moving, or that he was slumped at an odd angle._

 _I was suddenly aware of Tess, whimpering and scratching in her crate from somewhere behind me, and I knew that I had to get us out. As I struggled and sobbed, I could hear a voice, but it sounded distant and didn't fully register through my blind panic or popped eardrums._

Suddenly, my chest constricts as my eyes but and it's like a tidal wave washing over me.

I'm Twelve years old and back in that car. Mind, body and soul.

 _The voice I can hear gets closer, and suddenly, Christian is underneath me. He's crawling on his belly into the car through the broken window, brushing the glass aside with his covered forearms as he goes. He'd pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands to protect himself, but I can see small shards of glass sticking to the fibers. I wonder if he can feel them? I'm vaguely aware that he is speaking constantly, easing and trying to encourage me that every thing's going to be okay, but I still can't hear him properly or focus on him fully._

 _I can see from above, that he has a deep cut on his head and his hair is thick with blood, stuck to his scalp. His mouth is swollen and also bleeding, but his loud curses make me aware that he's now reached me and is trying to pull open my seatbelt. Coming to my senses, I try to help him, but struggle, crying out desperately, when it won't budge._

 _"I'll be right back, okay? Ana." Christian says urgently, his voice drifts off as he starts to shuffle himself backwards out of the car window and I feel instant fear at the thought of him leaving me._

 _"Don't leave," I yell, scared of being here alone. "My Dad..." I whimper, as I remember that he needs help too._

 _Christian, shuffles himself around until he can reach my father, but he's back so quickly that I know in my heart that he's gone, and there's nothing Christian can do to help him. My dad, would have moved to free me if he could, and he isn't moving._

 _My eyes lose focus as my tears pour, but I can't pull them away from the back of my dad's head. I'm unaware that Christian has even gone, until he's back and underneath me, calling my name._

 _"Ana, Ana." he yells sharply, grabbing my attention. I quickly pull my watery, frozen gaze away from my dad and look down at him._

 _He looks up at me with wide, determined eyes, but his fear is clear. He's just as scared as I am. He seems to square himself determinedly, like the man he wants to be, and looks me in the eyes._

 _"Ana, listen to me," he says firmly. "I need to get you out of here, but your weight is keeping the seatbelt from releasing you... I'm going to have to cut you free, okay?" he says pointedly and I nod in understanding, knowing it's the only way._

 _Christian, moves further into the car so that he's closer to me. He struggles in the tight space, but manages to position himself on his hip, directly below me. He lifts his arms as far as he can, and places one of his hands firmly on my shoulder. In his other hand he's holding a small fishing knife, and I can see it trembling in his clenched fist._

 _"You're going to have to try and support your body weight, Ana. Brace your feet on the back of the seat as best you can and hold on tight to my shoulders, lock your arms tight, okay?" he instructs me, and I'm so grateful that he's acting so much older than his teenage years. He's assertive and thinking ahead. Trying to appear strong and in control, and I need that right now. "You're going to fall once I cut you free, so..." I nod constantly as his voice tapers off and I understand his worry_

 _Our eyes lock and it's as if we're having a silent conversation. We both know that we're on our own in this. We both know that we have to get out of here, and quickly. We both know that we only have one shot at this, and in a limited amount of time, because we can both smell the gasoline._

 _Christian, looks deep into my eyes as he takes a deep breath and places the four inch blade behind the seat belt. He slices the strap in one swift motion but we don't stand a chance. Gravity, kicks in quickly._

 _I try to be strong and hold on tight, I really do. I try to brace and support myself as best I can, but as the seat belt is slit, I find I'm no-were near strong enough. I drop instantly, and heavily._

 _I can't control my weight, and neither can Christian. I let out a yelp, as I feel his young arms buckling under me as I land on him._

 _Our sudden movement, causes the car to rock and shift and I suddenly feel a deep, burning, pressure in my chest as I roll and slump on my back in the small space beside Christian._

 _I don't need to look down to know that the knife he was holding has entered my chest._

 _I don't want to look down. I can't look down._

 _If I look down, it's real._

 _My eyes lock with Christian's for a few seconds before we both reluctantly lower our gaze and watch the vivid, red, spreading rapidly across my bright, yellow T-shirt._

 _"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Christian curses frantically._

 _I barely hear his cursing when my eyes rise and I notice he_ _'s still holding the knife. It's stained red to the hilt._

 _A pain filled groan leaves_ _Christian when his_ _eyes follow mine. He immediately tosses the knife aside and b_ _egins to move quickly. Clambering over me and crawling out of the window. He turns himself around as soon as he's able and takes hold of my arms firmly. As he pulls me free from the car, my T-shirt offers me little protection and I have to grit my teeth to hold in my cries as the shards of glass from the floor scratch the skin on my back._

 _Christian, picks me up as soon as I'm clear of the wreckage. Fleeing with me in his arms until we're a safe distance down the road. I'm slumped in his arms like a dead weight and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I have no energy to help or support myself._

 _I'm feeling lightheaded and my eyes are blurring. The strong smell of blood is making me nauseous and my head is spinning uncomfortably. I can feel myself growing weaker and more lethargic as the seconds tick by and I really want to close my eyes right now, but surprisingly, I don't feel any pain. Just weak. Very weak._

 _"T.. Tess." I mumble, as Christian takes us further away from the wreckage._

 _"Ana, I need to get you to safety first, I need to get you some help," Christian says firmly, or tries to, but his voice sounds dry and broken. "I have to..."_

 _I see the compassion flood his eyes as his voice breaks because now that I've mentioned her, she is all we can both hear. I look up at him through half opened eyes, the effort too much to open them fully. "Please," I beg in a whisper. "Help, Tess."_

 _Christian curses under his breath as he glances over his shoulder towards the wrecked car. His frustration and reluctance to go is clear but Tess is whimpering so loudly, scared and helpless, still trapped in her crate, that he can't ignore her._

 _Christian, suddenly drops to his knees and places me gently down on the grass at the edge of the road. As soon as his hands leave me, he pulls off his sweater._

 _"Push here, firmly." he orders, grabbing my hands and forcing them against his balled up clothing on my chest._

 _I do as instructed with my weakening limbs, while he looks at me with teary, wounded eyes. There is so much pain and anguish in his gaze that my heart constricts painfully. He shakes his head as his shoulders fall, resigned, to what I've asked him to do. Shockingly, he then places a firm kiss on my forehead._

 _"I'll be right back." He whispers as his lips leave my skin._

 _I watch, as he jumps to his feet and heads back to the wreckage, fuelled with determination. I follow the movement of his bare back as he runs back to the car. My fathers car, is resting on its roof about forty feet away and it isn't long before Christian is on his belly crawling back into the car, trying to reach Tess._

 _Once Christian is out of sight, my eyes pass over the scene in front of me and I'm shocked by what I see. Christian's car is stationary in the middle of the road. The side, is all bent and twisted. The road, is full of distorted bits of glass, metal and debris. The cars engine is still ticking over, allowing the one remaining headlight to illuminate the road, but my sight seems to be waning._

 _As my eye lids begin to flutter, I notice Christian's father is slumped on the opposite side of the road. He's not moving but his eyes are wide open and he's looking at me, but I don't thin he sees me._

 _A wisp of smoke passes through my line of vision, causing me to look back towards Christian's car. The car is all contorted out of shape and there's fuel leaking from it, but nothing is on fire. I follow the trail of liquid which is running along the natural gradient of the road, and I can't hold in my sob when I see that it's heading straight for my father's car._

 _The car, where the smoke is coming from._

 _I can't see where it's coming from, but sparks have began to cackle and bounce on the ground, igniting small flames that begin to flicker at the front of the car. As I stare, transfixed, they're growing stronger by the second._

 _"Christian." I attempt to yell in warning, but my voice is low, raspy and goes unheard._

 _I try to move, to warn him somehow, but can't, my body is drained, lifeless. I glance down at myself and Christian's sweater is bright red now. I'm fighting with myself to stay awake. I can feel my body waining and my vision, zoning in and out._

 _A bright flash, catches my eye and I turn my head back towards the car._ _The trail of liquid that has now gathered and pooled around my father's car has been ignited._

 _Just before my eyelids drop, I catch sight of Christian standing in front of the car. He has Tess, clutched tightly in his arms. He looks my way at the exact same moment that the car explodes a few feet behind him._

 _The last thing I hear before the darkness takes over me completely is Christian's blood curdling screams as he flies through the air, engulfed, and surrounded by blinding, violent flames._

I knew, right then and there, hearing that sound, that he was dead. I can still hear that sound to this day. It makes my blood run cold every single night.

I breathe deeply, clinging to aunt Meg. She's still holding me close to her, stroking my hair, cooing, telling me that every thing's going to be okay. Just like she always has.

When I woke up in the hospital, sixteen hours after the accident, my aunt Meg was there beside me. She held me in her arms, doing this exact same thing, as she explained to me that no one else had survived. That I had lost my father and that the life I knew, the life I had, was over.

When I asked about Christian, I was told that no one with that name had been admitted. I, was the only one brought into the hospital that night. Even I was touch and go for a while, but everyone else involved in the accident was a fatality. I overheard an orderly using the term D.O.A. and my whole world fell apart.

I was heartbroken, devastated, and never spoke about the boy whose life I'd ended. I selfishly, begged him to help Tess, and it cost him his life. I hid my grief for him behind the grief for my father, and no one, was ever the wiser. I just bottled everything up, hid it as best I could and forced myself to begin a new life. A different life. A life, with my Aunt Meg.

I knuckled down and lost myself in my studies, sailing through high school and college. I excelled at everything I put my mind to, using the pain to keep me focused, driven, but also a little isolated. It was my way of hiding the shame and constant pain I was filled with over the life I took, and the lie I was living.

I could never hide from it completely, though. I could never bury it deep enough to be truly free. I've never been able to. It always finds me in the dead of night when there's no distractions, when I'm all alone.

It never lets me rest. It will be with me for all of eternity.

It's inside me, he's inside me, he has to be...

Because, I killed him.

.


	3. Chapter 3 - Reminiscing

.

Chapter Three.

Reminiscing.

 _ **Christian.**_

.

.

Sitting in the kitchen, gulping down cold coffee. I don't realize that morning's come around again, until my housekeeper Gail appears and starts busying herself with breakfast utensils. She jumps with a startled gasp when she finally notices me, slumped, despondently, at the breakfast bar.

"Oh, sorry, Sir." She apologizes automatically, holding my eye and reading my tired, gaunt looking face.

"It's fine, Gail." I mutter as I break eye contact with her, stand, then head over to the sink to deposit my dirty cup.

"Sit back down, Sir. I'll prepare you some breakfast." She states purposely, heading toward the fridge.

"I'll take a shower first." I reply quickly. Shaking my head further in decline, when it looks like she's going to open her mouth to insist.

I don't need this from her right now. It's the last thing I need.

I have to get out of here. I need more space and time to myself. I need a chance to clear my head.

Gail's eyes follow me as I begin to walk out of the room. I know she's looking at me with her usual compassion and maternal sympathy. Sympathy, that I don't deserve. She's done it for years, blatantly. The real annoyance from it has long gone, but it still grates on me sometimes, how concerned she can be for me. I don't deserve it... I never have.

"Are you alright, Sir?... Is there anything Jason or I, can do for you?" she asks, her soft voice catching me just before I exit the room.

I hear her telling tone and my body slumps in on its self. Gail knows about my father. She knows what time of year it is. She knows how bad it can get for me. She also knows how my past haunts and torments me. She's witnessed my inner pain, heard it numerous times. She's watched me wallow for long enough and I know she feels for me, she can't hide it, but I don't deserve her pity. She wouldn't give it so compassionately if she knew the truth.

I mutter, a "No, thank you." as I head away, knowing that Gail is still watching me closely. I can feel her eyes burning into the back of my head.

Why are woman so intuitive? How can they know so much, without knowing anything at all? Has she noticed that my nightmares have been increasing? Has she noticed the change in them? Does she realize that it's been Ten years since that night?

Of course she does. She appears to miss nothing.

Fuck. I can't believe it's been Ten years. Where has the time gone? It feels like it happened only yesterday. So much time has gone by, yet nothing has eased inside of me. Nothing has changed. The fact still remains that I destroyed my family, killed an innocent child, and there isn't another living soul that knows what I did.

After escaping Gail's burning gaze, I walk blindly through my apartment. Concentrating on the image of the life I took, I allow my brain rare permission, to stream her youthful face. Her chestnut brown hair, her bright blue, expressive eyes, her wide, toothy grin, all flash before me as I reach my bedroom.

As I cross the room and enter the bathroom, I strip off all my clothes. Stepping under the hot spray of the shower, I allow that night to unfold in my mind's eye. I brace myself, my palms flat against the shower wall as the water cascades over me from above. The heat, from the near scalding water, hardly helps, to keep the trembling within me at bay, but I focus on it anyway as I force myself to reminisce.

.

Who knew, that a fight in school would change everything. A five minute scuffle with some mouthy, dumb jock, would put me on the path that would lead me, and others, to so much tragedy and sadness. With the loss of so many lives.

My brow furrows with frustration and deep, deep regret as I think of the boy I was in my youth. How rash, impulsive and angry I'd been back then. How stubborn and foolish. I close my eyes tightly as I unwillingly, travel back.

 _I had gotten myself into yet another fight at school, for no real reason, other than I was bored. I'd headed home after being released by the principle, expecting the usual backlash and weak attempt at a punishment from my parents. I sneaked in through the back of the house, and found them both in my father's study._

 _I listened to their raised voices, sitting on my gym bag, hidden under the staircase outside the open door. I slumped against the wall, rolled my eyes and cursed to myself, hiding the growing frustration and guilt I was feeling as their conversation proceeded, and my mother's voice grew more and more upset._

 _"Carrick, we have to do something." I hear my Mother implore. Tears, stress, and surrender, all clear in her tone._

 _I mutter under my breath. Why the fuck is she over reacting so much, this time? It was only a fight. Shit, she'll probably suffer a coronary when she gets a load of my busted up lip. Fuck. I don't need this crap from her now._

 _"He can't carry on like this. Principal Harris, has threatened to expel him if it happens again." my Mother's voice reaches me and my ears prick up. This is new. Harris, never mentioned anything about that whilst grilling me after school. The sly fucker._

 _"I know, love." my Father appeases, trying to calm her down, using his well practiced tone. "I'll talk to him once he's home. I'll..."_

 _"Carrick. We've grounded him, confiscated his things, restricted and withheld all his privileges. How will talking to him, help?" she interrupts him, sounding more than exasperated._

 _"It has too, and if not, then we'll think of something. We could..." Dad begins._

 _"Elena, has offered a suggestion. A solution, to keeping him busy and out of trouble. She thinks it would be good for him to spend some time at her place. She's having quite a bit of work done over there, he could help out. Just a few hours after school and maybe over the weekends. It could be just what he needs, Carrick. Physical labour never hurt anyone." my Mother states, before my Father can say anything more._

 _Fuck no. I almost curse out loud._

 _The last thing I need is to be stuck at Mrs Lincolns place every night. I won't get away with anything over there, not even a sly smoke or quick drink. She may be my Mother's friend, but she's definitely no push over like my Mother. So no, fuck that._

 _"I really don't want to burden her with him, though, but it's something to consider if all else fails." my mother's voice continues, in her long suffering tone. The tone, she uses only for me._

 _"We need to find something for him to focus all his energy on." my Father says as if it's the answer to everything._

 _"We need to help him Carrick, before he gets thrown out of school. Something like that will follow him around and mar his record permanently." my Mother says, sounding genuinely worried for me._

 _"I'll take him camping for a few days next week. We haven't been up to the lake for so long, he used to love it up there when he was younger. I'll talk to him, try to get it through to him that his behavior needs to change. Maybe find out what's wrong with him."_

 _"It could be just what he needs, thank you, Carrick" my Mother gushes gratefully, all her problems suddenly solved._

 _I tune out their voices as they iron out the details, falling back further in on myself. "Yippee." I mutter sardonically, from my spot under the stairs. Just what I need, a week of lectures, sermons and fishing._

 _._

 _We went camping. We went up north, to a campsite that we'd visited a hundred times before. A campsite with log cabins, a lake for fishing, trees to trek through, and fuck all else. I was bored stiff after the first day but behaved and towed the line. I listened to my Fathers lectures, promised to be good, vowing to grow up and not cause my Mother any more heartache once we returned home._

Oh, if only we knew what was to follow.

 _The highlight of the week was when Dad was busy with an important call from his office, leaving me free to wander around the lake alone. I heard a splash, a yelp, a loud continuous scream and knew instinctively that something was wrong._

 _I followed the sounds on eager and rapid feet and when_ _I took in the scene in front of me, I acted on impulse. Without a second thought I ran, diving straight into the water, managing to save the struggling pup. The girl, who's dog it was, kissed my cheek in gratitude, when I climbed out of the water and handed over her sodden, ball of fur._

 _I was shocked by her brief kiss and felt my cheeks heat, but I blew it off. Despite, how her lips felt warm on my skin and the instant calm I felt within myself at her touch. I shrugged my embarrassment, and my reaction to her, off nonchalantly, just like the teen I was._

 _Despite her youth, the girl acted and sounded so much older than she really was, whenever we talked over the next few days. She was quiet, somewhat uncoordinated, but had an opinion, and there was a depth to her blue eyes that pulled me in whenever she spoke._

 _I remember thinking that it should've been a drag having her following me around all day, but she was okay for a girl. I told myself that I missed my annoying sister Mia, so could tolerate her, but it was more than that. Plus, her dog was kind of fun to kill time with._

 _On the day she was due to go home, I played it cool. I left to go fishing with my dad, knowing, that I'd never see her again and didn't think anything of it. She looked kinda sad, waving goodbye to me as I petted Tess, but I never gave it much thought. I knew I'd genuinely miss the dog though, and pondered for a minute if my parents would ever let me have a dog. I remember laughing to myself as I scratched behind Tess's ears at the absurdity of having a dog in my parents' home, especially a long haired one, like Tess._

I never knew how wrong I could be.

I wish I had.

 _A few hours later, Dad and I were heading back to the campsite. We were arguing. I'd gotten bored out of my mind whilst fishing and was behaving like the stropy, belligerent, teenager that I was. Dad, was driving, and turned to scowl at me, glaring over his shoulder, after I'd muttered some flippant remark in retort to what he'd said._

 _He didn't see the deer in the middle of the road, not until it was too late. There was nothing he could do. He swerved on the bend into the opposite lane, and hit the oncoming car head on. There was no avoiding it. It all happened in the blink of an eye._

 _I was shocked to the core by the force of the impact. The momentum, jerking my body violently, sending my head forward into my knees. I remember feeling a short, sharp pain in the back of my head, but it was overridden by a deafening sound._

I can still hear the crack of my dads head as it hit the side window of the car to this day. I knew at that moment that he was dead. He was dead before the car bounced back to the road and held still.

I lift my head, until the hot water of the shower pounds against my forehead. I know the visuals I'm about to replay will be painful. I'm going to skim, keep it brief, but I still need all the comfort I can get. The hot water barely distracts, but it's something.

Closing my eyes, I watch, in what appeared to be slow motion as the car we'd hit, turns and flips a few times, before it's stopped abruptly by the trees that line the side of the road.

 _The smell of gas hits me as I take in my surroundings and I go into action. Freeing myself from my seatbelt, I climb over the seat to get to my dad. He looks like my dad, smells, and feels like my dad, but the light has gone out of his eyes. A flash of my mothers face, along with how this will affect her, goes through my head, but I shake it off, I can't think about that right now. I have to get him out._

 _Freeing my dad from his seatbelt, I push the door beside me open, and pull him out swiftly. With all my strength, I drag him away from the wreckage as far as I can, away from the smell of gas that's growing stronger and more potent. I look up, assessing the danger and damage to the car we've hit, and despite the state it's now in, I recognize it instantly from the camp site._

 _Ana._

 _I quickly, lay my dad down on the soft grass and run over. I hear the dog first. She's whimpering, loudly, and I can hear her paws scratching at her crate with urgent, desperation. Ana's frantic sobbing reaches my ears as soon I reach the car. She's hanging upside down, stuck, scared, panicking and pulling at her seatbelt, frantically._

 _I try to pull open the door, but it won't budge, it's all bent and crushed out of shape. The glass has shattered, gone from the windows, so after covering my hands, I drop to the floor and crawl in on my elbows to reach her._

 _It's cramped, the car all condensed and contoured, giving me no real room to move. I struggle to free her, pulling and tugging on her belt, but the locks secured by her weight and just won't budge. I realize it's futile, and I'm wasting valuable time._

 _I can almost taste the gasoline fumes now, and it's only getting worse._

 _I need to cut her free. I need to cut her free... Now._

I feel my heart begin to pound in my chest because I really don't want to do this. I hate reliving this, hate thinking about this, so, it has to be brief.

 _I try to calm her, reassure her, but she's so young and scared. I am too, but I will never admit that to her. I shuffle back out of the car unnoticed, Ana's dazed, shocked and upset over the loss of her dad, so I use that to my advantage._

 _I run to the trunk of my dads car, digging around in his fishing kit until I find the small gutting knife he has. The smell of gasoline is stronger over here, and I can see smoke begin to rise from the back of Ana's car._

 _We don't have much time._

 _I head back to Ana quickly, clambering back into the car eager to cut her free. I'm rushing, scared, worried about her falling, but I lock my arms and shoulders and prepare myself as best I can. I try to keep my trembling at bay as I slice sharply through the belt, but as soon as it severs, Ana drops like a stone to the side of me._

 _I'm jolted into her as the car tips, and I feel the knife enter her chest effortlessly, and I can't breath._

Then and now.

I turn off the shower and I try to compose myself. My breathing is deep and sluggish. My body seems to weigh a tonne and I need to sit down.

I grab a towel as I cross the room and after wrapping it around my waist, I sit on the bed, put my hand in my head and rest my elbows on my knees. I breathe deeply, focusing on the drops of water that are falling from my hair and body and pooling onto the hardwood floor in between my feet. Anything, to distract me from the memories that are still rolling through my head.

 _Once I could smell the blood, I panicked, cursed myself and shuffled quickly out of the car. Realizing what I'd done, I took hold of Ana as soon as I could. Keeping my eyes away from the blood, rapidly soaking into her shirt. I dragged her out and carried her to safety, keeping my eyes firmly on hers._

 _I remember my stomach plummeting, when I heard the dog howling desperately behind me._

 _As I lay Ana down on the ground, she felt lifeless, like a rag doll. She was weak, growing more drowsy by the second, but I still heard her soft voice begging me._

 _"Tess, please help, Tess." she whispers, and I knew she was slipping away from me. I could see it in her paling complexion. Feel it as her body grew more and more limp._

 _How could I refuse her dying wish..._

 _I pulled off my shirt and pressed it firmly to her chest. I knew it wouldn't help. I knew she was losing far too much blood for it to do any good. I knew she was waining. I knew she was slipping away from me._

I suddenly can't breathe and pull myself out of my memory to take control of my constricting chest. It's always been easier to recall, than relive.

I remember, wanting to stay with Ana, I needed to try and help her, but I had to ease her first. I remember kissing her forehead as I left her, can still feel the sensation from her skin on my lips if I concentrate hard enough.

How could I ever forget it... Ever forget her.

I left her, knowing it was a bad idea. Knowing what could happen, knowing what would probably happen, but this was my punishment, my penance... For hurting her.

I don't remember crossing the road, my feet moved of their own accord, but I do remember feeling the heat, hearing the strange crackling, sparking noises as I got closer. I remember feeling my throat burn from the thick, intoxicating fumes I was inhaling.

I know, I crawled back into the wreckage as far as I could in order to reach the dog crate that was wedged into what use to be the back of the car. I knew, I was on borrowed time while daring to do this and thankfully Tess, was fully aware of the danger we were both in. She jumped swiftly into my arms once I got her crate open, enabling our quick get away.

I remember stepping away from the car, wanting to head back to Ana. I remember holding a trembling, scared, Tess, close to my chest, feeling relief, and taking comfort from her pounding heartbeat and warm coat next to my bare skin, but it was short lived.

I wasn't quick enough. No where near quick enough.

From there on out, things get a little bit hazy, but I drift along with it anyway.

I remember feeling a searing heat and an overwhelming force, hit me from behind simultaneously. I remember my legs being taken from under me as I was thrown forward by the explosion. I remember feeling a white hot pain, like I'd never felt before and my entire body going numb.

I remember hearing blood curdling screams and high pitched whimpering, and I can still smell the sickening, reek of burning hair and flesh in my nose, and I don't know, even now, if it was hers or mine.

I remember catching a glimpse of Ana as I hit the ground and she was lifeless, her eyes were closed and her body was limp.

She'd gone.

Knowing, that the young girl was dead, was the last conscious thought I had, before I was lost to the intense pain and oblivion of darkness that I was caught up in.

I woke, a few days later, laying face down on a hospital bed with the overwhelming feeling that I was throbbing from head to toe. My skin felt hot, tight, distorted, and I was grateful for the pain medication that made me groggy and unable to move.

 _As my eyes adjust in the dimly lit room, the first thing I notice is Mia sleeping. She's curled up, on a small, portable cot in the corner of the room, her face, even at rest, is all red and puffy from crying. My Mother, is sitting on a chair next to my bed, weeping quietly into her phone. She's clearly heartbroken and retelling the tragedy of losing her husband, and updating my progress, to someone on the other end._

 _"M..mo..." I attempt to say, but my throat is ripped raw._

 _"Oh, Christian." she exclaims, dropping her phone and leaning over me urgently. I ignore the pain that radiates from my head down to my toes as she kisses my temple._

 _"Oh, my darling boy, you had me so worried." she sobs, close to my ear._

 _"Dad.. Mom... I'm... sor.." I try to murmur. My throat, loosening, but still painfully tight. She shakes her head as she shushes me quietly._

 _Her tears pool and pour as she sits back down. Looking at me with a face full of heartache, she begins to tell me what I already know. Somehow, I hoped, it had all been a bad dream. My thoughts are all disjointed and confusing and at this moment, I'm not sure what's real, what's true. Ana._

 _"He didn't make it Christian... the police said he was already... it was an accident... he... you got him out... oh, Christian." she sobs and her head comes to rest on the bed beside mine._

 _I feel the tightening in my chest and throat as the guilt, and pain, grips me. My eyes sting as my tears begin to fall heavily, and I just want to comfort her, beg her for forgiveness. Hug her._

 _"Mom, I... girl.. Tess..." I utter, as my head suddenly begins to swim with images of Ana and what happened to her._

 _Mom raises her head and frowns down at me as she brushes away my tears. "Girl?" she questions. "No one else came to the hospital with you... you were the only one who... oh, you mean the dog? You wouldn't let her go." she says softly as she smiles at me indulgently._

 _I attempt to move and lift myself, but it's too much. A wave of nausea and pain hits me as I slump back onto the bed. I hear Mom calling for the doctor as I groan, painfully._

 _"Hold still Christian, please, you're badly injured. You've severe burns on your back and neck, you need to lay still." she urges, as a nurse rushes into the room and begins assessing me, and fiddling with the beeping, machines that surround me._

 _"Bu..but.." I attempt, needing to know what happened to Ana._

 _"Don't fret Christian, the pup is going to be fine, she's still at the veterinarian hospital, but Elliot is picking her up in the morning. Her fur was badly burnt and she was in a lot of pain, but she's going to be okay." my mom assures me, but it's not what I want to hear._

 _"No, wh...where..." I try and ask._

 _"You're in the burns unit, at Seattle Grace, honey." the nurse beside me says soothingly as she inserts a syringe into the drip I'm attached to._

 _"No..no one... else sur...viv..ed?" I slur, as I instantly begin to feel the effects of the administered pain relief._

 _"You were the only one brought into the hospital, sweetheart." the nurse says compassionately as she finishes attending to me._

 _"I'm sorry... Mom." I whisper as my eyelids grow heavy and my mind starts to shut down. Guilt, regret, and immense pain are pushed aside as the medication take immediate effect._

God, I wish I had that luxury now.

Days later, when I was a bit more coherent, I asked my mom, to check the hospital for Ana. There was no record of her. I asked all my attending nurses to find out what happened to her, but they all looked at me sadly as they confirmed that I was the only one brought in that night.

Everyone else had gone to the morgue.

Ten years ago, tomorrow. I destroyed my family, broke my mom's heart... took the life of a young girl... and nobody knows anything about it.

No one, can ever know about it, but how does a person live with that type of secret?

How can a person keep that to himself, carry that around, and still stay relatively sane?

Simple...

They can't.

.


	4. Chapter 4 - Need For Change

.

Chapter Four

Time for change.

 _ **Ana**_

.

While sharing breakfast with Aunt Meg, before she leaves for work. I can almost hear the cogs grinding as they turn in her head. I can see she's concerned about me, especially after witnessing my mini breakdown earlier, and I know she's dying to talk to me about it. After all this time spent living with her, it's not the first time she's held me, while I've been in floods of tears, and I know just how she'll start and what she'll say.

"You know Ana, I've been thinking." she says as she rises from the table, gathers our dishes together and places them into the sink. I smile to myself, pleased that I know her so well. "You need a change of scene."

My brow twitches in surprise as there seems to be no preamble today. She usually builds up to this slowly.

"You can't live like this, Ana." she states softly, but firmly. Yes, straight to the point. I must be worrying her more than I thought.

I hug my cup as I stare into the cooling liquid. Nodding as per usual at her suggestion. Something in me stirs, because maybe this time, she could be right. "I know you're hurting, and nothing seems to help, but you have to get away from here for a while. It's a permanent reminder that you don't need. Why don't you go, blow the cobwebs away and live a little. You're young, beautiful..."

"Where would I go?" I interrupt her with a soft chuckle. Tempted, but scared by the idea.

"I don't know, any place where the sun is shining, anywhere that you've ever wanted to go and explore or visit... Any place, that will make you smile." she says with feeling, and hugs me tightly as I let go of my cup and stand. "You know I'm right, Ana, and what harm could it do? Just think about it. You're to young and precious to be living like this." she whispers into my hair. I hold her tightly as I nod against her. Smiling at her compassion, and sudden enthusiasm to get rid of me.

Aunt Meg, kisses my forehead before leaving the house and heading out to work. With a request, for me to try and get some sleep, but I'm left wondering about taking her advice. I make myself another cup of tea as I consider places that I've always wanted to go. Unsurprisingly, the list is very short. I've never wanted to leave here. Never wanted to leave home. I've never felt the pull to explore or travel. I've never had the urge to just head out with a single backpack, no plans, schedule or itinerary. No, that's not for me.

I wouldn't mind doing something productive or worthwhile, though. I could volunteer my time somewhere, help the Red Cross or Doctors Without Borders, maybe. It could be nice to pick grapes from the vine on some sprawling vineyard somewhere, soaking up the sun and local culture, but I know I'd need a genuine reason, a true purpose to leave here. This place, no matter how painful it can be for me living here sometimes, it's my home.

Half of me wishes that it wasn't.

That it never was, but it is.

Living here, lost in the Cascades, is a constant reminder of that dreadful night. Every sight, sound and smell, can be a trigger in one way or another for me. It doesn't help that I have to pass the crash site every time I want to go anywhere, but it's unavoidable. The accident happened on the only road, leading in or out of town.

I've always had mixed emotions and reactions, whenever I've driven through the devastation that I envisage as I pass along that stretch of road. Sometimes, my dad wins out, and I yearn for my missing daddy and his big strong arms. Other times, guilt and regret dominate me, and I'm caught up thinking of the boy that lost his life too soon. Either way, I can never pass smoothly or ignorantly along that stretch of road.

I visit the site, lay flowers and talk to my dad on every special occasion, and whenever the mood takes me. Which, is another big reason why I've never wanted to leave here, but it also hinders my letting go of that night, and the pain it holds within it. So something has to give.

Realistically, how can I ever forgive myself and move on, if I'm still here shadowed by it and reminded constantly of what happened? Aunt Megs, right. I know she's always been right. I've just never taken her seriously before. Now, though, I think my physical and mental wellbeing depends on it... But...

I'm so undecided. What do I do for the best? My Dad, always told me to believe in my gut and trust my instincts. Which is what keeps me here, but he said my mom was flighty, spiritual, and would have told me to be open to signs and omens for change, and to live accordingly. Just as she had.

I wish we could've had a warning or omen from her that night. I wish she had of been watching out for us. I wish...

No, I don't want to go there again, not so soon after my sleepless night. I'm not strong enough. A wave of fatigue floods me at the reminder, and my lack of sleep starts to catch up with me again. No matter how frequent my sleepless nights are. No matter how much I'm used to so little sleep, my body always gives up at some point. I usually cherish these times as I tend to get a few more hours of sleep than the norm, but I'm not too sure about sleep today. My head is still full of Christian, and my emotions are frayed. I'm not ready for another replay and I know it could easily happen. My body may be shattered, but my mind is still urging me to stream, relive and recall. I can't do it again. Not now.

I need a distraction. I need to focus on something new. I need to listen to my Aunt Meg.

Leaving the kitchen table, I head to my room, grab my comforter from my bed and pick up my laptop. I settle myself on the sofa in the lounge, laying length ways, covering myself and nestling into the cushions. Once I'm comfortable, I prop my laptop on my knees and start searching travel sites. I'm hoping I'll be able to drift off, close my eyes for a time while I'm distracted. No matter how short a reprieve that might give me. I'm going to take it.

It seems to work, as half an hour later, my eyes are droping and I'm lost within beautiful, sunny days, and sprawling sandy beaches. I let my eyes fall closed and focus on the delightful images conjured up in my mind's eyes.

I need to rest. I need to sleep.

So, I'm taking them with me.

.

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	5. Chapter 5 - Letting Go

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Chapter Five.

Letting Go.

 _ **Christian.**_

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Last night was unbearable. Since I allowed myself to recall my past, I've hardly been able to breathe. My cross to bear, is a constant companion. A torturous reminder, and with every second that has brought me closer to the anniversary of the accident, it's become more suffocating.

I feel drained, body and mind, and I've had enough. The combination of the two is taxing and I really can't carry on like this. I need closure. I need peace. I need to end this torment within myself, once and for all. I have to draw a line under all of this and let it go. Before there is nothing left of me to save.

I need to breathe. I need to be able to close my eyes without fear. I need to live.

It took me all night, but I've made a decision.

A decision, that I've never had the nerve to contemplate before. One, I've never wanted to contemplate before. I'm not sure if it will help me, but it seems... Fitting.

Especially now.

Today.

I've decided to return to the spot that changed my life. I'm going to go back to the Cascades to make my peace. I'm going back to let go, to reprieve myself and bid farewell to my ghosts. To say goodbye to Ana.

Finally.

Hopefully.

Driving along the road that fills my nightmares, I feel myself growing more and more anxious with every bend in the road. The closer I get to the small unheard of town, the more the feelings inside of me churn and rise. I push down the rising nausea as I drive on through the imposing trees, ignoring them and everything else around me. Focusing solely, on where I need to be.

Knowing, I need to do this, knowing, I need to be here and end this, I urge the car forward. Even though, all I want to do is slam it into reverse.

In ten years, I've never wanted to come back here. Never felt the need to.

It's been bad enough, dreaming with young eyes and disjointed thoughts and memories, without having it refreshed and brought back to life in full Technicolor. I've always believed that coming back here would somehow make it worse, but could it have been any worse?

I feel a shiver run up my spine as I involuntarily, swallow deeply, and I know that I'm getting close. I can feel it.

The last thing I remember seeing, before feeling the force of the impact, was the back of the towns, 'Come Back, Soon' sign. It was situated on the opposite side of the road, and I remember smiling at the lewd graffiti that was sprayed on the back of it as I avoided my dad's eye.

Lifting my foot off the gas pedal, I slow my speed as I turn the bend. My heart pounds, as my stomach rolls because there it is. Even without the wooden marker, and the curve of missing trees from the explosion, in the perfectly uniformed tree line. I would have known this spot anywhere.

I pull over as soon as I can, but remain situated in my seat. I can't bring myself to move, and find myself motionless as I'm taken over by everything.

Sights, sounds and smells engulf me quickly. I'm overpowered as images invade, consume and blind me. I sit, frozen in the car as that night replays behind my tightly closed eyelids. Unable to control the visions, I try to focus, try to breathe and pull myself together, but it's impossible. It's far too overwhelming being this close.

I can feel her. Sense her. Even hear her.

I clutch the steering wheel as the minutes go by. The car, filled with the sound of my deep, erratic breathing. I think of anything and everything, to expel that night from my head, and once I begin to calm, I slowly begin to count. Somehow, I manage to pull myself together enough to take a step out the car. I turn, leaning against it for support. With my hands splayed evenly above the window, I rest my head on the roof. My breathing is still labored, my pulse is pounding in my ears and I can feel heavy, beads of sweat running down my chest under my shirt. I'm violently trembling, fighting the urge to vomit, and knew I shouldn't have come.

With a false sense of conviction. I stand tall, take a deep, determined breath and push myself away from the car with force. I need to take control of myself. I need to take control of this. I need to be stronger than this. I need to get over this. I have to get this over with.

This has to be done.

Bent on accomplishing what I've set out to do, I stride to the trunk of my car. I open it, and take out the large, circular wreath of Lillie's, that the florist suggested would be suitable for this kind of tribute. Holding it firmly in my hands, but being careful not to crush the delicate blooms, I walk along the side of the road.

Each step is heavier than the last, and I welcome the dropping onto my knees as I reach the soft grass, where others, have marked this spot. I place my flowers down on the ground, and a huge wave of sadness washes over me. I glance at the other laid out tokens of respect, and my heart bleeds for everyone that this accident has ever hurt.

I know that my family have rarely visited here. My Mother came here, not long after dad's funeral to lay flowers, but I don't think she's been here since. She visits his grave, every Sunday, tending to it diligently, though, but never here.

It's obvious that someone still visits here, and visits regularly. Someone, is still pained, still suffering, still heartbroken, over what happened here and what I did to Ana. The dying, varied assortment of blooms, that are all at different stages of withering and rotting away, prove that to me. It hits me hard.

Why has this surprised me so much? It shouldn't have.

My eyes fall to the ground where I remember placing the small, fragile body of the girl... Ana. I can see her in my mind's eye as clear as day. She was so small, so fragile, so scared... and dying in front of me.

She was just a child. She had her whole life ahead of her. It had hardly begun, but I took that away from her. Right here on this spot. I ended everything for her.

I can honestly say, that I've often wondered what Ana, would look like now. How she would have matured and grown. I've always had my own idea of how she would've altered and blossomed into herself, because she was a pretty child.

I've also pondered over what she might have done with her life. What dreams she could've achieved and accomplished by now. Her failures and successes. The possibilities were endless for her. She would've been in her early twenty's now. She could've been married, maybe had kids, but no, she never got the chance.

My chest tightens and sadness clouds me as I realize the mistake I've made. I thought it would help, me coming here and saying goodbye. By making a conscious decision to let go and leave it all behind me, I thought I could just move on. Now, I'm not too sure. I can feel her more strongly now that I'm here.

I was a fool to do this. A fool, to think this would help.

How can I ever let her go? She's a part of me.

What I did to her, what my actions caused, what I ended, will always be a part of me. There's no escaping that.

Sudden movement in my peripheral draws my eyes upward. I stand swiftly, straighten myself, squaring my shoulders and brushing the tears, that I didn't even know were falling, from my cheeks.

Two large Husky dogs, pulling an empty wooden cart, emerge from a gap in the nearby tree line. They're followed closely by a local looking man in his fifties, who's dressed in denim and plaid. I feel my lip curl into a melancholy smile as my eyes lower, because one of dogs is very similar to a pup from long ago.

The local man, nods a, 'Good day,' in my direction before looking down at the wreath I've left on the ground. He can hardly miss it. Compared to all the dying blooms it shines.

"It's terrible, what happened that night." he mumbles, and I see his eyes crease. "Did you know them?" he asks, looking at me fully. Interest and pity, both clear and creeping into his eyes.

I shake my head numbly, suddenly overwhelmed. I feel like he can see right through me, deep into my tortured soul. As he frowns at me and his eyes lock with mine, I feel like he knows what I've done, why I'm here, and what I hoped to accomplish. I feel like he can see my pain, shame and guilt written all over me, and I can't bear it.

I feel panic begin to rise, bubbling in my gut and I have to go. I have to get out of here.

I step backwards, mumbling an incoherent, "Excuse me." then turn on my heel and dash back to my car. Climbing back in, I can feel his critical eyes following me. I see him quirk an eyebrow at my abrupt departure in my rear view mirror, but he just shrugs me off and walks away, shaking his head as he goes.

I need to leave. I need to get out of here before the pain, loss and regret overpower me completely and I can't drive at all.

I start the engine and floor the R8. Vowing adamantly, to let all of this go and never return here. To never let all of this consume me again.

My life has to change, I have to change.

Despite my positivity, I soon have my doubts over my conviction. As an hour down the road, with a hundred miles between us, I can feel her presence more than ever. She's with me core deep, and I know in my heart, I will never be able to shake her not matter how much I try to convince myself. I just hope that by coming here, I haven't stirred a hornets nest and made things ten times worse for myself.

No, I mustn't think like that. I have to stay positive that this will work. It has too. God, these inner berating are driving me crazy and if anyone knew how my head really worked, I would be certified. I know I have to let this go, but I can't. I know I can't continue to live with this anguish, but it's who I am, who I've become, and who I deserve to be.

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

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	6. Chapter 6 - A Reason To Hope

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Chapter Six.

A Reason To Hope.

 _ **Ana.**_

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Today, feels different.

After waking on the sofa, I felt calmer and well rested after a few hours of deep sleep. I had an easy day yesterday, and slept soundly last night. I wasn't disturbed by dreams of any sort at all, and I can't remember the last time that's happened.

I have the strong urge to talk to my dad, especially today, and now that I'm on my way, I notice the air is still, the forest is silent and the sun is trying to peak through the grey, looming clouds.

It's a strange day. An ominous day.

Pulling up, at the familiar, towns 'Welcome' sign,' where I've sat a hundred times before just talking to my dad. I smile to myself. Despite the grief of losing him, I like being here. I feel closer to him here... Him and Christian.

With my dad, still being in the car when it exploded, I feel like this is where his spirit lingers. We even spread his ashes here. So here, is where I spend my time when I need him, and today, I need him.

Taking hold of the small posy of wildflowers, that I picked myself, from the passenger seat beside me. I turn to open the door. Before I've even stepped out of the car, I notice a large arrangement of flowers lying on the ground. It's so out of place. My feet move, and I gasp as I get closer. It's so extravagant. My eyes widen at the beautiful display of Lillie's. My heart starts to pound with excitement and trepidation as I step blindly towards them. Wondering who could have left them. I sink, slowly to my knees, my eyes not leaving the blooms.

Flowers, are no surprise, the locals leave them all the time. They usually add theirs, out of respect, once I've marked my dad's birthday or the anniversary of the accident, but there's never been anything this elaborate.

I notice a small card, tucked into the display and my fingers itch to touch it. Looking left and right, and despite feeling intrusive, I take hold of the card, open it and read the words inside.

My heart stops as the written words spin round and round in my head. Tears begin to pool in my eyes and I'm finding it hard to breathe.

 _ **I'm sorry, Dad.**_

 _ **I miss you.**_

The elegant script reads.

 _ **Ana.**_

 _ **Forgive me, for ending your hopes, your dreams... Your life.**_

 _ **Christian.**_

Slumping backwards, trying to catch my breath. I fall off my heels and onto my ass onto the grass. I begin to hyperventilate as the shock takes hold, and I shift, to lay my palms on the ground for support.

Ana... Me... Christian... How on earth... Who... He couldn't have... No, no, no.

My mind swirls with questions, and possibilities, while my body takes stock. He can't have been here? It can't possibly be him who's left these here? He can't be alive. He couldn't have survived that explosion. I know he didn't survive that explosion. I saw him die. I saw him... But who else could it be?

My body strengthens as I take control of my breathing, and my brain beings to clear. I take in what's in front of me and there's only one explanation. Could he really have survived the explosion? Could he really still be alive? The thought fills me with an overwhelming sense of hope and immense excitement, but it also terrifies me. Why? Why did he come here after all this time? Why now?

It's been Ten years. That's why.

Only he would know that.

Before I have the chance to fall into a complete panic attack, a local man, Ben, appears a short way down the road in front of me. He has his monthly supplies from the store, piled high in his cart. His two dogs, pulling it along, happily.

The dogs see me first. Ben, only becoming aware of my presence, once their tails starts wagging and their pace picks up as they head towards me.

They reach me and I pet them fondly. One more than the other, due to her ever growing resemblance to the pup I lost, Tess.

I close my eyes tightly, while my fingers run through her fur, and Tess and Christian are back here with me.

"Hi, Ana." Ben says, with a nod and a bright, wide smile as he reaches me.

"Afternoon, Ben." I surprise myself by saying, despite the shock, confusion and huge lump caught in my throat.

I genuinely smile, realizing it's helping. The interruption is good. Having something else to focus my attention on is giving me time to pull myself together properly. To get my head around the impossible. To hope for the impossible. I've never been more grateful for a distraction in my life.

"How are things with you and your Aunt Meg?" he asks, trying for nonchalant, but I see his eyes widen a tad at the mention of her name.

I can't help smiling at how he and Meg keep dancing around each other. They've known each other for over four years and anyone with eyes, can see they like each other.

"She's fine, Ben. Maybe you should pop up and see her sometime." I tease, knowing that he won't.

"Maybe, I just might do that." he says with a smile.

I smile with him, but shake my head, feeling my frustration grow. I don't understand them at all. He likes her, she likes him. I just can't comprehend why they don't just go for it. Life is far too short to linger. They both know that. Meg lost her brother and Ben lost his wife to cancer over six years ago. He sold up, gave up everything and came to live the quiet life, here in the forest. They both know loss and heartbreak. They both know loneliness. They would be so good for each other.

Before I attempt to stand, my eyes are drawn back down. I return my gaze to the flowers on the floor. Which was a bad idea. I feel the emotions within me swell at the thought of what they represent, and I discretely try and brush a solitary tear from my cheek before Ben can see it.

"He, was as upset as you are." Ben utters softly, as he pats my shoulder and smiles down at me sympathetically.

"He, who?" I ask, looking up at him eagerly.

"The guy who left the flowers." he replies and my eyes widen as my spirits lift.

"You saw him?" I exclaim loudly, jumping to my feet.

"Yes." he chuckles, surprised by my reaction and taking a quick step back.

"Who was he? Did he tell you his name? Where did he go?" I ask, but Ben just shakes his head at me, clearly bemused and surprised.

"I don't know who he was, some rich, city slicker by the looks of him. He wore a power suit, drove a flashy little Audi with Seattle plates. He never introduced himself. Do you know anyone from out that way?" Ben asks as I frown.

I shake my head, thinking back, trying to remember if Christian ever mentioned where he lived, or where he was from. I can't even recall the name of the high school he was attending. I don't even know his second name.

"Did you speak to him?" I ask hopefully. Praying to God, that he did.

"No, he left as soon as he saw me." Ben replies, and his eyebrows lift at my sudden look of despondency.

"What did he look like?" I ask quickly, picturing the boy I met so long ago.

"He was a tall, handsome fella, I suppose, with crazy as hell brown hair. He looked to be in his mid, to late twenties."

I picture Christian and tick off the similarities as Ben muses out loud. Three out of four. The approximate age and hair color are right, and he was handsome back then, but I don't know how tall he'd be now. He was thin and gangly at fifteen, who knows how his growth spurts would have changed him as he aged.

My heart pounds at the thought, and growing possibility that it could have been him. If, by some miracle, he survived the explosion and really has been back up here, what happens now? I can't just let this go. I can't just ignore this.

"Do you know him? Could he be a long lost family member?... Must be close, to leave such a token." Ben mutters.

"At this precise moment, Ben, I don't know, but I'm going to find out." I state determinedly and I feel myself come alive at the possibility of what this could mean.

"Thank you, Ben." I squeal excitedly, startling the resting dogs.

I bounce onto my toes and place a swift kiss on his cheek as I pull him into a hug. My embrace, full of gratitude for him being in the right place at the right time. As I let him go, I look back down at the beautiful wreath with hope and longing.

Oh, I hope to God, that it's him. Please, let it be my Christian. The thought of him being alive is like a weight lifting, and I want to scream with pure joy.

Ben mutters, a rushed "Goodbye." and quickly scurries away, embarrassed by my outburst and show of affection. I smile as I watch him disappear into the woods following his well worn trail back to his cabin. I chuckle, feeling much better about myself as he rubs his blushing cheek with a smile.

My eyes fall back to the wreath on the ground, and I reach down to take hold of the little ornate card, that hopefully, the Christian I knew, wrote. I also pull one of the beautiful flowers free to take with me. Well, they were left with me in mind. I hold the delicate flower up to my nose and the sweet smell fills me with elation.

God, I hope he's still alive.

I race home, hardly aware of the journey I take. My excitement, growing and building with every second that passes. I arrive home and burst through the back door, scaring Aunt Meg, who's busy preparing dinner in the kitchen.

"Ana, what is it?" she exclaims, dropping the knife and onion, she was in the middle of chopping and turning towards me.

"He's alive." I gush, as I shut the door behind me.

"Who's alive?" she asks me, confusion, all over her face.

"Christian, the boy who saved me." I tell her.

"What! What boy?" she asks, her frown deep and troubled.

"Oh, Meg, I thought I'd killed him, I knew I'd killed him, but the flowers prove that he was here and Ben said..."

"Ana, I've no idea what you're rambling on about, please, slow down and tell me what's happened." Meg interrupts, as she ushers me to sit down and fusses, by getting me a glass of water.

I try and rein in my enthusiasm, so I can begin to explain, but I'm bubbling like a volcano inside.

"Remember, when I was in the hospital, and I asked you if anyone else had survived the crash?" I ask, starting right at the beginning. Aunt Meg nods slowly as she sits down across from me at the kitchen table. "You told me, that no one else had come into the hospital with me, and that..."

"That's right." she mutters dubiously, wary about where this is going to go.

"Do you remember me telling you about the boy I'd met, and that it was he, who'd pulled me out of the car before it exploded?" she nods slowly, and I can see the concentration on her face as she recalls. "Well, I thought he died in the explosion and..."

"Ana." Aunt Meg interrupts. Her voice soft but sure. "You were in and out of consciousness, hardly making any sense. Nobody else, no one, came into the hospital with you. You, were the only survivor, sweetheart. It's normal to be confused. You were on a lot of pain medication and under those circumstances, dreams can seem so real. You were so young and..."

"Aunt Meg, it's all true." I interrupt her adamantly. "Christian, does exist. It was his father's car that we hit. I met him earlier, when he rescued Tess from the lake after she fell in. He pulled me out of the car that night, and if he hadn't gotten me out when he did, I'd have been killed in the explosion. My seatbelt was stuck and Christian had to cut me free... That's what caused the injury to my chest. It wasn't caused during the crash by flying shrapnel like the Doctors presumed, it was Christian's knife..." my explanation trails off at the look of horror growing on Aunt Meg's face.

"What!" Aunt Meg exclaims, wide eyed and clearly shocked.

"It was an accident," I explain quickly. "He didn't mean to stab me, but the car moved after he cut my seatbelt and well, that's not important now because he must be alive. Look." I pull the florist's card out of my pocket and slide it across the table before placing the solitary Lillie along side it.

I watch her closely as she reads the words on the card. Her frown deepens before she whispers. "I'm not sure what this means, Ana, but it might not be him. You shouldn't get your hopes up or..."

"Who else could it be?" I snap, suddenly feeling frustrated with her. Why doesn't she share my joy?

"I don't know, sweetheart." she mutters. Her eyes lock with mine and I see her understanding, but her uncertainty is growing.

"I'm going to find him." I tell her, my voice strong and determined.

She picks up the card and turns it over in her hands, frowning and shaking her head slowly. "How can you find him? Do you even know his full name?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I don't remember him telling me his last name, it didn't seem important back then, but I'd give anything for it now." I mutter to myself.

"There are a lot of Christian's in the world, honey." Meg states, logically.

"I know, but he's from Seattle, so I'll start there." I tell her confidently.

"How do you know that? There's no address on this card, just some fancy shop name."

"Old Ben, saw him leave and..." I begin.

"I really wish you wouldn't call him that. Ben's not old and he..." I chuckle at her defending him and smile.

"There are three men, all named Ben in town, he needs some distinction." I clarify with a chuckle.

"True, he is the oldest, but.." we share a smile as I watch Aunt Meg's cheeks flood with color. She shakes her head as she rolls her eyes at me.

"I need to pack a few things." I state suddenly, bringing us back to Christian, and easing her embarrassment. I push back my chair and rise to my feet, adamantly.

"What?" she asks, mirroring my movements.

"This is a sign, an omen and I.." I begin.

Meg shakes her head as she chuckles. "You're definitely your Mothers daughter, her hair brained, free spirited belief in fate and everything happening for a reason, is certainly running through you, but.."

"Meg, I love you, and I know you're going to worry about me, but you have to trust me. I have to do this. So, please, no buts, I have a purpose now, and a genuine reason to leave here and... And I promise, it will blow the cobwebs away." I smile at her, as her eyebrow quirks at me for using her own words against her, but I need her approval and blessing. I don't want her worrying about me while I'm gone, and I am going.

"Ana, what do you hope to achieve by looking for him? After all this time, if he wanted to..."

"Meg, Christian, thinks I'm dead. His words prove that, this card proves that. I thought he was dead. I thought I'd killed him. For ten years, most of the grief and pain I've carried around with me, was for him. I love and miss my dad, every single day, but I've always felt responsible for Christian's death. It was my fault that he got caught up in the explosion. I sent him back into the car, for Tess, and it's weighed me down. I've felt so guilty. So lost."

Aunt Megs face falls with sadness and disbelief. "Oh Ana." she utters softly."Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrug, feeling more shame than ever, but it feels good to have told her everything, finally. I smile, taking her hand in mine.

"It doesn't matter now, all my pain is in the past, but I know what I have to do now, Meg. I don't know how, but I have to find him. I need to find him." I tell her with determination, and it feels good to have made the decision.

"Why Ana? Why do you need to find him?" she implores.

"I need to thank him." I tell her truthfully.

"What for?" she asks with growing bemusement.

"For saving my life, of course." I stare incredulously.

I'd have thought that was obvious.

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A/N

Thank you all so much for you reviews, and supporting this story. It means a lot to me.


	7. Chapter 7 - My Saving Grace

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Chapter Seven.

My Saving Grace.

 _ **Christian.**_

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The drive home from the Cascades, is automatic and somber. I'm thankful for the mundane hours that have passed, alone behind the wheel. It's given me a chance to clear my head. The opportunity to reinforce my conviction for letting all this go. The time to convince myself that I can, in fact, move on. The determination to...

Oh, fuck, who am I trying to persuade? It certainly isn't myself. If I haven't been able to let her go, after Ten, tormented years, how will laying some flowers in the place where it happened, finally set me free?

It won't. It can't.

I can already feel her spirit, her essence, her very being, following me home.

I have to try, though. For my own fucking sanity, I really do have to try.

I push my R8 forward, and before I know it, I've reached Escala, parked my car, and am stood, frozen, staring at my reflection in the mirrored doors of the elevator as it ascends. To look at me, you wouldn't think that I was a murderer. A killer. You wouldn't think that I'd aided in my father's death and stolen the life of a child. But I have.

As the doors open and my reflection vanishes, my posture firmly squares. I step into my penthouse, surprised, then pissed, to see my mother, sitting at the breakfast bar. She's drinking coffee, chatting with Gail, who's busying herself in the kitchen.

My mother, isn't what I need after a day like today. The past few hours have drained me, and what I really need is a hefty scotch and a shower. My mother, is way down on the list of things I wish to deal with right now. Especially today. There's only so much guilt I can carry on my tarnished shoulders, on a day this poignant.

Gail, bids my mother farewell, and excuses herself as soon as I enter the kitchen. She reads my annoyance, and mental fatigue instantly and scarpers. I wish my mother would follow suit.

"Where have you been?" my mother chastises me as I head over towards her. "Did you forget about today?" she asks, offering me her cheek for a chaste kiss.

As my lips leave her warm cheek, I slump down onto the seat next to her, nodding in confirmation, because truthfully, I did forget. I forgot, genuinely, that I supposed to be visiting the cemetery with her and my siblings, today. Ana took precedent and over shadowed everything.

"Sorry." I mutter, unsure of what else to say to her, but feeling truly remorseful.

"What, was so important that you forgot about your family?" she scolds me, but I notice her tone has softened.

I stare at her, unsure of what to say. Do I tell her the truth about where I've been and what I did today? Or do I brush her off with the usual, I was busy at the office? At this point, does it really matter.

"I drove up to the crash site." I confess honestly, despite, knowing what her reaction will be.

I see it clearly, her pain, anguish, concern, then annoyance. I feel it too, but more so, because I caused it. For her, and myself.

"Oh, son, you need to stop doing this to yourself." she says softly, looking up at me with heartbreak all over her.

"I know." I respond, automatically.

Of course, I'm lying, to her, and myself, because it's never going to happen. Despite, what I did today and no matter how hard I try to think positive, or attempt to convince myself, it's ingrained in me. She, is ingrained in me. My mother's pain is also etched, deep within me.

"Your Father, he would never have wanted you to live like this, Christian. Feeling so guilty, being so closed off, and burying yourself entirely in work. You deserve more than that." my mom gushes, as she tries to mollify me.

"Work, is all I have." I mutter, but mom carries on as if she never heard a word.

"Ever since you turned eighteen and received your inheritance, you've not stopped trying to prove yourself. You've built your empire and exceeded every expectation, and challenge you've set yourself, but you need to be happy Christian, and you're not. You need to live. Get out of this glass box and find yourself a distraction, a girl who..."

"Mom." I interrupt her sharply, not needing to hear this again. Not today.

"Please, move on Christian... I don't blame you, no one blames you, forgive yourself... It wasn't your fault." she soothes as she takes my hand.

Her squeeze is comforting, and I try to return it with as much conviction, but I fail miserably. Forgiveness, is not something I can give myself, it's not something I've earned. My mother, may have forgiven me for taking her husband from her, but she doesn't have the power to grant forgiveness for my real crime.

"I'm trying." I tell her truthfully. "That's why I went up there. I paid my respects, left flowers and said sorry, and goodbye." my half truth sounds unconvincing, even to me.

My Mother raises an eyebrow dubiously and eyes me skeptically.

"What do you have to be sorry for, Christian? I thought John was helping you?" she says softly, obviously seeing something in my expression, and picking up on that one slip of a word.

"He is, he does." I say quickly, avoiding her first question, and it's the truth. Well, another half truth.

John, has helped me to manage the guilt I feel over the death of my father, but he could never help me with my real problem. He could never get to the true cause, or reason, behind the un-receding guilt I've carried, because, like everyone else, he doesn't know about the girl I've killed. The life I took.

How could I tell him? If I told him, then it would've meant telling everyone else, and that was never going to happen. As a child, when I first started seeing him, he was obliged to share important information with my mother. Once I turned eighteen, that rule, no longer applied, but by then, it was too late to confess.

Years, too late.

"What happened to you and your father, was an accident, Christian." my mom implores, and I can see her irritation with me, creeping into her hardening eyes.

"No, Mom, it's not.." I begin, unsure of what I'm going to share with her exactly, but feeling the need to explain.

"Yes. Yes, it was," Mom interrupts. "You have to stop doing this to yourself. There's no point in constantly berating yourself, over something you had no control over. You may have distracted your father, but you didn't know the deer would be on the road, Christian." Mom says firmly. "He, was behind the wheel, not you. It was an accident."

I know she's right, about my dad at least, but I know she would think very differently about me, about all of this, if she knew exactly what I'd done that night. I think it would destroy her if, she found out about my killing Ana, now. After all this time.

I feel drained all of a sudden and need a drink. I need my mother to leave. Her constant, understanding, sympathy and compassion are head wreaking. After the day I've had, and hopelessness I feel, I really need and want, to be alone.

Mom, can clearly see it, the second my demeanor changes.

"What are you up to this evening?" she asks me, changing the subject and gathering her things. "Come home with me, we can have dinner together." she suggests, with a hopeful smile.

I shake my head firmly. "I'm fine, Mom, I'm going to the beach house as soon as I'm finished up here. Tess, needs me." I tell her and feel the smile growing on my lips at the mention of her name.

Mom smiles along with me. "Okay, son, I'll leave you with Tess. She's always been so good for you. You'd be lost without her, wouldn't you?" she asks softly, her eyes saddening.

"Yes, I would." I whisper, and my mood plummets further.

Losing Tess, after all this time, is one of my biggest fears. She's the only link I have to Ana. To the girl who was. Once I lose her, then what? It will be like Ana, never existed. That thought terrifies me.

I stand, a silent invitation for her to leave. She has to go.

"Come and have dinner with me, next week sometime." she suggests, a hopeful glint in her eye.

"I'll try." I reply, noncommittally. Fighting the urge to usher her to the door.

Mom stands, and accepts her dismissal gracefully. She bids me goodbye with a hug and the promise to speak again soon. The relief I feel when she's gone is instant, but I'm still reeling and restless within myself, and need to get out of here. Work can wait. Everything can wait. I need Tess.

I instruct Gail, that she and Taylor are now off the clock, to forget about preparing dinner and to pack my weekend bag, immediately. I avoid her watchful, concerned gaze as I head to my bedroom, strip, shower, then throw on jeans and a T-shirt.

I head to my office and send off a few quick emails, ignoring anything that isn't vitally important. I'm eager to leave here and start my weekend. Nothing is going to get in the way of that. Nothing at all.

Pulling up at my beach house an hour later, my entire body relaxes as I step from the car. Taking my bag from the trunk, I ignore my serene surroundings and head straight into the house. As soon as the door is closed behind me, I'm calling out for Tess.

I hear her, making her way slowly through the house from the kitchen to greet me. Her pace is picking up with excitement, but it's not quick enough. Dropping my bag, I hurry through the house to meet her. I'm eager to see her, revel in the comfort she brings, and finally breathe.

Reaching her, I drop low to pet her. "Hello girl, how you doing?" I coo softly as I rub her big, furry, grey head with both my palms.

Tess, whimpers as she nuzzles in, enjoying the contact. She's old and frail. Truthfully on her last legs, and it's going to kill me when I lose her. She's the only connection I have. The only physical reminder that Ana was real, and not just a figment of a dreadful, recurring nightmare.

Tess, grows excited as my knees hit the floor and I pull her tightly to my chest. Relishing in the feel of her warmth and familiar soft fur, I lose myself, smiling for the first time in days, with my only true friend.

My chuckles build as her tongue starts lapping at my hands and her back leg begins twitching. She lulls forward, wanting to play. He weight knocking me onto my ass. I wrap my arm around her and roll us. With her on her back I home in, on rubbing her belly.

Tess, is my one true taste of solace. She is my talisman and living proof, that I did something good that night. I may not have saved Ana, I may not have saved myself, but I've made damn sure every night since then, that her dog was always kept safe.

Safe, with me.

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A/N

Thank you all so much. x


	8. Chapter 8 - Heading South

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Chapter Eight.

Heading South.

 _ **Ana**_

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As I enter the city of Seattle, I gulp thickly as my eyes and heart expand dauntingly. My eyes are constantly drawn upwards by the metal and glass structures that ascend, powerfully into the sky. They're imposing, impersonal, and what I wouldn't give to see a tree, right about now. I'm obviously missing the familiarity of home and my body know that.

My palms have become slick on the steering wheel, and panic's beginning to creep in. Where on earth am I supposed to start looking for him, in this unfamiliar place? It seemed so easy in my head. Well, not exactly easy. I never gave much actual thought to what I would do, once I arrived here. I just knew that I had to come here, and I had to try and find him, but now what?

After talking to Meg over dinner and explaining everything to her. I packed a bag, gathered a few of my things and retired to bed early. I slept fitfully, all eager and apprehensive for the day to begin, because as soon as it did, I was in my car, heading south. Now, I need direction.

I head further into the hustle and bustle of the strange city, just going with the flow of traffic. I have no idea where I'm headed, or where I'll end up. So, I look around, anxiously, for inspiration. I spot an internet café as soon as my eyes scan the buildings to my left, and thankfully, a vacant parking spot, a block further down the road.

I feel a bit less overwhelmed by my surroundings, once I'm stationary. So, I leave my car, enter the café, grab a tea, a muffin, and situate myself at an empty computer. Where I eagerly log on.

I have no idea how to begin, so simply type, Christian, Seattle, into a search engine and hope for the best. I frown, feeling instantly disheartened as dozens of irrelevant sights are listed. I try Face book, but that's another disappointment as there are hundreds of them, and not nearly enough pictures.

I search the name on the back of the florist's card, and my hopes are lifted, when the accompanying website, gives me an address that appears to be local. It's a starting point, I suppose, and what harm can it do to ask.

I pull out my phone and call the number on the back. Though I don't expect an address. I thought the shop would at least part with a name, but no, the sales assistant informed me, that they are unable to share their customer information with me. Data protection, or something.

I thank her anyway, hang up, and don't allow this hiccup to douse my eagerness. I may not have received an address, but at least I know I'm within his radius. If he used this florist then he must be close. Or at least, work nearby.

As I sit and sip my tea, just staring at the open search engine, that's waiting for me to give it something to do. I realize that I have no idea how to go about this. I know nothing about Christian, so what do I really hope to achieve by sitting here, looking for one man in the midst of a city that I'm so unfamiliar with.

I need help. Professional help. I need someone who knows Seattle and knows how to go about finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. I need someone who can get me information, and hopefully access. I place my cup down, set my hands on the keys and begin my search, for a local Private Investigator.

Once I find a reputable one, and one that's within walking distance. I call the number provided, requesting an appointment, without thinking to much about it. I'm pleasantly surprised, when someone is available to see me later today. The nerves begin to kick in as soon as I hang up the phone, but the excitement soon takes over at the prospect of what could happen with their help.

To kill a little time and stop myself from become too anxious, I order another tea and search through local tourist attractions. Aunt Meg, made me promise, that I would use this time away as a vacation and put some time aside for sight seeing, while I'm on this crazy quest of mine. So, I'm sure a few trips to the local galleries, museums and highlights of Seattle, will interest me and satisfy her. I'll bombard her with postcards and touristy tat. That should keep her quiet and cease her worrying about me.

A few hours later, I have a rough list of places I'd like to visit during my time here, but all those thoughts are brushed aside as the alarm sounds on my phone, reminding me of my appointment.

Gathering my things together, I check the map on Goggle one last time and head out in the direction of the Investigator's office, that's situated, only a few blocks away. I hope against hope, that they can help me, and this won't be a complete waste of time.

Walking into the large, bustling, office block that houses the Investigators office. I quickly spot the main reception desk, where they politely and efficiently, issue me a guest pass, and instruct me to head up to the eighth floor.

Reaching the floor that houses, Grant, Mitchell and Cohen. I step from the elevator and head towards the reception desk. Which, thankfully, is directly in front of me. I take a seat, after I receive a smile of apology from the lone secretary, who is busy on the phone at her desk. As soon as her phone call is finished, she stands.

"Welcome Miss Steele, Mr Grant, will be with you shortly. Can I get you any refreshment while you wait?" she asks me efficiently.

"No... No, thank you." I utter, while clearing my throat.

She smiles with a polite nod as her phone starts to ring again, and I'm left alone in my thoughts as she sits back down at her desk.

I survey my surroundings while I have the chance, and feel my shoulders slump. I don't know quite what I was expecting, but I'm a little disappointed. This office space is quite modern, and sterile. It's all dark granite floors, with light walls and black fixtures, fittings and furniture. Very cold and impersonal.

I've watched a lot of old Private Eye movies with my Aunt Meg - they were a favorite jon-ra of my dad's - They were always full of brooding men in trilby hats, wearing trench coats and hiding under coils of cigarette smoke, and there was always some sexy as hell, femme fatal, leaning provocatively against the door jam. This is nothing like that. This, is like a lawyer's office. A divorce lawyer's office.

The smartly dressed, middle aged secretary, rises from behind her desk, after a low buzz is heard a few minutes later. She approaches me with a bright smile.

"Mr Grant, will see you now, Miss Steele." she says kindly, as she ushers me to a set of large wooden doors to my left. She knocks gently, waiting for a reply, before pushing them open for me.

I smile in gratitude, my eyes holding hers, and as my feet cross the threshold I feel myself trip. I correct myself quickly, before falling flat on my face. Grateful, because what type of impression would that have made? He's already going to think I'm nuts.

My eyes widen as the doors close behind me. The office of Mr Grant, is nothing like I thought it would be from the outside. It certainly doesn't fit in with the reception area I've just left. But this, this is more like it, and I feel the smile on my face, growing wider by the second.

Mr Grants office, is like something out of a time warp. It's old, cultured and full of strange, oddly shaped objects from travels gone bye. One wall, the one behind Mr Grant, is completely floor to ceiling books. Old, dusty books, that I want to browse through. The rest of the room is all dark wood paneling, and even the Windows are obscured by heavy, wooden, slat blinds. They're tilted, giving the room a nice cool, shaded feel and look.

There are two, oxblood leather wingback chairs situated in front of a beautiful but huge, ornately carved, wooden desk. It reminds me of something an old time professor, would reside behind. It's beautiful.

The man behind the desk, stands politely as I approach his desk. He looks at me, from behind half moon reading glasses, with bright, kind blue eyes. I feel my smile, soften as he looks so Grandpa like. He certainly fits his surroundings. He's in his late sixties, I'd guess and when he smiles in greeting, I instantly relax. I shake his hand easily and comfortably.

He gestures with his hand, offering me a seat and I quickly sit and sink back into the soft leather, grateful for the support.

"Miss Steele. How may I help you?" Mr Grant inquires as soon as I'm comfortable.

My throat suddenly tightens, because I have to actually tell this man something, and I suddenly feel very reluctant, and foolish. I take a deep breath and hope that I can get some information out of him before he throws me out of his office.

"I need your help in finding someone." I state simply, but confidently.

"A missing person?" he utters, picking up his pen and poising his hand over a ledger to jot down some notes.

"No, not exactly... Missing." I confess, nibbling on my bottom lip.

"No." he says curiously as he takes off his glasses and looks up at me.

At that moment, there's a soft knock on the door. It swings open, without invitation and the efficient secretary, carrying a tray laden with tea and coffee things, enters the room.

As she busies herself preparing our refreshment, Mr Grant's eyes don't leave me. I can feel them boring into the side of my head as he eyes me with interest. I try and ignore him, by concentrating on the other woman in the room, but I can feel my nerves growing at his silent scrutiny of me.

I try to think of the best way I can, to explain why I'm here. Why I'm in his office, seeking his help, looking for someone I don't know. Without, giving him too much information, and without, sounding crazy, but he doesn't give me a minute. As soon as his secretary has left the room, Mr Grant asks me again, how can he assist me. My cup, clatters noisily in its saucer as I place it down on the edge of his desk, and I feel myself flush.

"Please, take your time Miss Steele." he says kindly, seeing my discomfort.

"Mr Grant, I need your help in finding someone that lives here in Seattle. I don't have much information about him, which is why I need your expertise in finding him." I say, sounding a lot more confident than I actually feel.

Mr Grant, nods purposefully with a compassionate smile, before turning in his chair and fiddling with his computer. "So, what can you tell me about him?" he asks, fingers at the ready.

"Well, his name is, Christian," I state firmly, knowing it's the only real fact I have. "He lives here in Seattle, according to the license plate on his car, which is a flashy, little Audi. He's a professional, I think as he wears a suit, and..."

I look at Mr Grant, noticing that his fingers have stilled on his keyboard and he's frowning at me. "No disrespect, Miss Steele, but nearly everyman that lives or works, in the city is a professional, and they all tend to wears suits. They also tend to drive nice cars."

I sigh heavily, feeling defeated and shrug helplessly at Mr Grant, who's waiting patiently for me to provide him with more information to go on. What else can I tell him about Christian? I don't know anything more about him.

"Let's try a different approach, shall we. Can you tell me what he looks like?" Mr Grant asks me hopefully.

I smile as I envisage the boy I met. "Now, he'd be about Twenty Five years old. I don't know how tall he'd be, but he has brownie, bronze hair, grey eyes and he's..."

"Anyone look familiar?" Mr Grant interrupts, as he turns his computer monitor to face me.

On the screen are Eight photographs. They're all head shots of men that appear to be very similar in age and appearance, but I know who I'm looking for instantly. As my eyes take in every detail of his face, I feel my body tingle at the sight of him.

He's grown to be so handsome.

"Miss Steele?" Mr Grant urges.

"Oh... sorry. There, that's him." I exclaim with excitement, pointing to the hauntingly, familiar face on the screen.

Despite how handsome Christian first appears, the more I stare at his image the more I notice that he looks so tired, and his eyes are so pained and, almost lifeless. I stare at his face, transfixed.

"This man here?" Mr Grant asks as he removes the other images from the screen.

I nod, wide eyed, at the solitary photo of Christian. "He's the person you're looking for?... You're certain?" Mr Grant asks sharply, when I don't reply right away, and it's only then, that I notice he has a cautious, clipped, edge to his voice.

"Yes, that's definitely him. Please, can you help me contact him?" I ask, sitting up in my seat. Barely able to hide the jubilant feeling that's growing within me.

I ignore the hardening of Mr Grant's eyes and tensing of his jaw, even though, I'm unsure of why his demeanor has changed so suddenly, but I'm not really concerned about that right now. He's found Christian.

Christian, who is alive and well, and here in Seattle.

My eyes are drawn back to the computer screen in front of me. My imagination, didn't do him any justice at all. He's grown to be a very attractive, very good looking man, and I'm so glad that I came here and...

"Miss Steele," Mr Grant, retorts firmly, sounding almost curt. I feel my eyebrows lift at his sharp tone. "I don't think that I can help you, I..."

"Why not?" I interrupt sharply, frowning at him, feeling totally dejected by his reaction.

"I'd rather not get involved. I will not be a part of any..." Mr Grant begins.

"Part of what? Who is he?" I interrupt him again, suddenly feeling devastated as his words and hard, set posture, finally register fully and sink in.

I look at Mr Grant closely and he looks angry, apprehensive, wary and if I'm reading him right, almost afraid.

I slump back into my seat, allowing myself to be swallowed up by the leather wing back chair and comforted. Why is Mr Grant, afraid? What could Christian have done, to make this man wary of him?

It suddenly dawns on me that Christian could have grown up to be anybody. Any type of person. I knew a boy for a few days, one summer, who was polite, and fearlessly, risked his life for me and my dog. What type of man is he now? He could...

"Miss Steele," Mr Grant snaps, as he notices my zoning out. I bring my eyes back to his and he continues. "The man you identified is Christian Trevelyan Grey." he informs me, sounding almost patronizing. As if it's obvious that I should know who he is.

"Who is he? Do you know him?" I repeat, needing to know more about the man.

"How do you not know him?" he asks, clearly bemused.

"I met him briefly when I was younger, I knew nothing more than his first name, but tell me, please, how do you know him?"

"Everyone in Seattle knows Christian Grey, he is one of the most successful and influential businessmen in the city." Mr Grant informs me simply, but I notice the slight tremor of fear in his voice.

"Oh." I mutter, dumbfounded, but secretly relieved that he's not some notorious thug or serial killer.

Mr Grant, stands suddenly and walks towards the window. He pulls on the cord to draw up the blind and lets in the bright, mid afternoon sunlight. With a hooked finger, he calls me over to him and points out of the window to a large, glass building a few blocks down, on the opposite side of the street.

"You will find Mr Grey, in that building there." he informs me, confidently.

"Christian, he works there?" I ask excitedly, suddenly nervous at being so close to him. This is going to be easier than I thought. I mentally cheer. Eager to be on my way.

"No, Mr Grey, he, owns that building, and many others."

"Oh." I mutter, realizing this might not be as easy as I first presumed. He is obviously powerful and respected.

"Yes... oh." Mr Grant mutters, sounding a little condescending.

Mr Grant ushers me back to my seat before he closes the blinds. I sit back down and he quickly follows suit, watching me closely. He stares at me, trying to read me, I think. His eyes are delving into mine and I'm not sure what my face is showing as I'm all shook up inside, and I don't know how much of that he can see, but eventually, Mr Grants posture softens and he sighs heavily.

"Miss Steele, may I ask, why do you need to contact him? What do you hope to gain from your meeting with him?" his tone is gently, but he's once again, eying me skeptically.

I hold my tongue, suddenly not wanting to share my past with him. The friendly Grandpa persona has left him, and he's now the Private Investigator, that investigates, digs and delves for a living.

"I just need to speak to him." I reply truthfully, and honestly. I've never even thought about what I would do, once I found Christian. Not passed, saying hello, anyway.

"I don't think you need my help in your search, Miss Steele. Everyone knows Christian Grey. Anyone, will be able to assist you," Mr Grant says as he stands and indicates that I do the same. "Why don't you just pop down the road to Grey House," he continues as I stand and he wraps an arm over my shoulders. "Just make an appointment to see him." I nod, thinking his suggestion sounds plausible, but his walking me to the door is a clear brush off.

"Okay, thank you, for your time and assistance." I say automatically and politely.

"You're very welcome." he replies just as politely, but I can tell he wants me gone.

He wants me out of his office, and he certainly doesn't want to get involved with Christian. Even if he wasn't pushing me out of his office, just short of rude. It's clear.

"Good luck, Miss Steele." he says firmly as the door closes behind me.

I stand in the reception, blindly watching the secretary busy at her desk. I feel a little shaken and confused by what's just happened and as her eyes lift and she notices me, I see confusion, then pity, hit her face and I don't need that right now.

Knowing, that I'm being rude, I ignore her calling my name as I stride to the elevator. As it descends, I fret, over why Mr Grant didn't want to get involved. He clearly knows Christian, yet seems worried, very hesitant and slightly intimidated. Why?

I can't imagine Christian, having that effect on people. I wonder if his perception of him is true.

Only one way to find out. I suppose.

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A/N

Thanks to each and everyone of you for reading. Your reviews are amazing and I'm so grateful that you've taken this story to heart.


	9. Chapter 9 - Impenetrable

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Chapter Nine.

Impenetrable.

 ** _Ana_**

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Walking down the street with purpose. I head toward Christian's building. Marching, on strong and confident feet, they soon falter as I enter the intimidating, glass structure, known as Grey House. My eyes widen, full of awe as I take in my surroundings. The building is cool, sleek, majestic, and screams power.

I walk over to the large reception desk, suddenly feeling completely out of my depth. Everyone around me is impeccably dressed, and I'm feeling a little intimidated in my jeans and favorite blue, plaid shirt. My brown hair, is swinging in a ponytail, high on the top of my head and my face is free of make-up. Compared to all the perfect, Max Factor pouts and tight, blond up-dos, I stick out like a sore thumb.

I suddenly feel so out of place.

"How may I help you?" The striking, blond receptionist asks me politely, but I notice the sneer she's trying to hide, curl her beautifully painted lips as she looks me up and down, taking in my attire.

It's obvious to her, and myself, that I don't belong here.

"I would like to speak to, Mr Christian Grey, please." I state clearly, trying for confident, but her expression, once she's heard my request, quickly drops me to where she thinks I belong, squished, under her pedicured feet.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asks as her eyebrow lifts patronizingly. Her heavy, made up eyes, scan me harshly, but I ignore her hostility as I shake my head and stand a little taller.

"No, I don't." I admit, and she doesn't even attempt to hide her chuff of contempt for me. I sigh heavily, knowing that I'm not going to get any help or leeway from this rude, woman. She seems to have taken an instant dislike to me. Which pisses me off.

"Then, I'm afraid..." she begins.

"I only need five minutes of his time, please," I interrupt her. "If he's unavailable now, then could I make an appointment with him, for as soon as possible." I ask politely, with a forced smile on my lips as I hold her eye.

"That will not be possible, I'm afraid." she says evenly, without even considering it. She lowers her eyes back to her desk and attempts to look busy.

"Could you at least check his schedule for me, or buzz through to his office and ask, if he can spare a moment?" I snap without thought, my annoyance with her rising and itching to the surface.

"It would be a waste of my time. Mr Grey, is never free." she states simply, before lifting her head to look past me.

With a subtle nod to a big burly guy, who I didn't even notice was standing behind me, the cold, unhelpful receptionist, turns on her heel and walks away from me. It's clear, I've been dismissed.

Without a word, or any hesitation, the security guard, takes me firmly by my elbow and leads me out of the glass fortress. Before I have a chance to react or even slow him down, I'm stumbling down the stone steps onto the busy sidewalk.

I turn back to the doors, once I find my feet, feeling flabbergasted and really pissed off. I glare at the security guard, who's standing behind the closed glass doors with a practiced firm stance. His bulging arms are crossed over his muscular chest, and his dark eyes are glaring my way. Warning me, to stay away.

I curse him like a sailor, under my breath, of course, until my shame recedes enough to refocus. My eyes leave his, still creased with the anger I'm feeling, then rise and rise. Following the contour of the glass fortress that holds Christian Grey. I wonder, which window is his? I have no way of knowing and it wouldn't help me anyway, because Spider man, I am not.

The only way into his building is through those doors, and with the consent of those two assholes. The realization that I'm never going to get my foot in the door, sinks in fast and hard. I feel my mood and stomach simultaneously shift and plummet to my feet. So near, yet so far.

What do I do now?

Unsure of why, I turn away from Grey House, and begin to walk back down the street toward Mr Grant's office. My eyes pool with frustration as my feet begin to trudge. My despondency growing with every step I take away from Christian.

Minutes later, I'm stepping from the elevator and entering the familiar, reception area. Mr Grant steps out of his office, to pass a file to the secretary, just as the doors close behind me. He spots me immediately.

"Please, will you help me?" I beg, before either of them can say anything about my teary, reappearance.

Mr Grant's eyes, lock with mine and his face instantly softens. I see pity, sorrow, then regret, pass clearly through his eyes, before he sighs heavily and nods at me slowly.

"We will be needing more tea, please, Sylvia." he says quietly to his secretary, who nods as she smiles up at me sympathetically.

I follow Mr Grant into his office. Suddenly feeling like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. He eases me into the familiar, and comfortable wingback, before taking the seat beside me. He looks at me with the utmost compassion, and the tears, I've so far managed to keep restrained, begin to fall freely.

I feel foolish and annoyed with myself for crying in front of him, and with so little restraint, but I can't seem to stop, now that I've started. What he must think of me. I realize suddenly that I don't know how to explain my weepy state, and honestly, I'm hiding behind that. I'm hiding my self pity, my annoyance and my frustration. I'm hiding my embarrassment.

Arriving in Seattle, with no plan of action whatsoever, was pretty foolish of me. I know that now, and I don't know what outcome or reception I expected, or hoped for. I admit to pondering about the man, that the boy I knew, could've grown up to be, but I never foresaw or imagined anything like this.

It never crossed my mind, not even for a second, that Christian, could be some unreachable tycoon. I never thought he would be a man, who was encased in a protective tower of glass, with beefed up security and a witch, for a receptionist. I never thought he would be powerful enough, to have a fierce, reputation that preceded him, and made people afraid of him.

I did consider, that he could be married, even have a couple of kids, but the feeling it induced hit me hard, and I dismissed it quickly. I just thought he would've grown up to be a normal guy. A guy, who had a regular job. A job, that made him approachable.

I hoped he was a guy, who drank sociably with friends in his local pub. A busy pub, where he could easily, and discretely be observed, but now, that seems highly unlikely.

I thought, he would at least be behind a door you could approach. A door you could knock on, even enter, without being tossed to the curb like trash.

"What happened, Miss Steele?" Mr Grant's soft voice asks as my sobs and doleful thoughts subside.

I smile to myself, despite my woeful state, because his voice is so warm, and the fatherly figure I need right now, is back.

"I couldn't get near him." I admit, suddenly feeling exhausted from crying. "The receptionist, was horrid to me and had security throw me out." I confess. A heavy, embarrassed sigh leaving me.

He looks at me with sympathy before nodding. "I apologize, Miss Steele, it was only to be expected." he says calmly.

I'm too drained to be pissed at him, for sending me into the dragons den, knowing what would likely happen to me.

"I will not be put off by how I was treated. I still wish to speak to him Mr Grant, so how can I get into that building?" I ask, trying to discretely wipe my runny nose on my sleeve, and appear determined.

"Miss Steele," Mr Grant breathes, as he leans onto his hip and digs around in his front trouser pocket. "I don't think Christian Grey, is the type of man that you can just call in on to say, 'hello'." he says with a compassionate tone, but a slightly bemused smile on his lips.

He shifts his weight again, before passing me a neatly folded, pressed, monogrammed handkerchief.

"Thank you," I utter with a flush, accepting it gratefully. "Please, Mr Grant, I've realized that I can't do this alone, I need your help. I still wish to meet him, so I want to hire you. I have the means to pay you for your time, if that's what you're worried about." I suddenly gush, before blotting my eyes and blowing my nose.

"Your credit score, isn't the problem, Miss Steele... Getting you near him is." Mr Grant mutters.

Before I can reply, the office door swings open, and Sylvia, enters the room with a laden tray, but this time, she's added a packet of chocolate biscuits. Ooh, A woman after my own heart. I smile at her graciously, eager to tuck in.

Once I sip at my tea, munch on a biscuit or two, or four, I find the heat, sugar rush and time to think, helpful. I've pulled myself together and the water works have stopped. My embarrassment has now turned to strong conviction.

"Miss Steele..." Mr Grant begins as he places down his cup and turns towards me, but I quickly interrupt him.

"Please, Mr Grant, don't dismiss me. I don't know why you're so reluctant, and no offense meant, but you seem scared of him and..."

"Not scared, Miss Steele, just very cautious in regards to crossing him. I would not wish to cause any waves with him, and forgive me..."

"That will not happen, I promise you." I interrupt him.

"At this point, I'm reluctant to believe your promise." he retorts.

"All I want to do, is meet him." I state hopefully.

"That, is a challenge in it's self." he mumbles.

"Could you help me to get an appointment with him? Arrange a coincidental meeting, perhaps?" I suggest.

He shakes his head and it's clear he's still wary and reluctant about getting involved, but I know I have his compassion, so I try a different tact.

"Fine, if you can't get me near him, then please, get me all the information you can on him. I'd like to know where he lives, his schedule, his hobbies, the names of his closest friends. Everything... I need to find a way of getting close to him." my tone has gone from firm to almost begging, but I don't care. I know I'll be back to square one without this mans help.

"Even that simple task would be a challenge, Miss Steele, if not near impossible. Mr Grey is known for being a private, almost reclusive man." Mr Grant explains.

"Surely he must.." I begin, but Mr Grant continues to talk over me.

"Very little is known about him outside of the office, Miss Steele. It's very rare to see him out in public, socializing. There's no evidence of him ever having a serious relationship. He's very illusive, cold and... renowned, for being unapproachable."

"He can't be that bad." I mutter, finding it a little hard to believe. The boy I met was very easy going.

Then... His life changed.

"He excels in the board room, turns everything he touches into gold, it's well documented and publicized, but privately, nothing." Mr Grant, shrugs his shoulder as he smiles softly.

I sigh heavily, resigned, that maybe he can't help, and this could truly be, a waste of time. Maybe I'm not supposed to meet him again? My stomach rolls with the thought. No, he can't be that unobtainable. I have to see him.

"There must be some way to actually see him. He must leave the house." I state more than ask.

"You can't just approach him, Miss Steele," Mr Grant states firmly, his tone clear with his warning. "He has constant security around him, his residence is a fortress, and he..."

"You know where he lives?" I gasp, shocked that he had this information all along and never shared it with me.

"Everyone knows, who owns the penthouse of Escala." he says with a chuckle.

"Escala? What and where is that?" I question, but Mr Grant's brow creases instantly.

"Miss Steele, I must warn you, you shouldn't try and approach him, especially not at his home. Mr Grey is not known for his patience or his tolerance. He has a temper that..."

"I'll heed your advice, Mr Grant, but it could be a starting point, surely?" I interrupt, taking his apprehensive tone and urgent warning to heart, but wanting to use what we have.

Mr Grant shakes his head slowly. "Please, don't, Miss Steele." he urges.

It dawns on me, looking into his concerned eyes, that he knows, The man, better than I do, and after the way I was treated at Grey House, I know he speaks the truth and only has my best interests at heart. I'll listen to his warning.

Accessing Grey House, was bad enough. I dread to think, what could happen to me, if I went to this Escala building, unannounced. Even though I'm dying to, but no... I really don't fancy being arrested. Handcuffs, wouldn't be a good look for me.

"I learned my lesson earlier, Mr Grant, I won't be approaching him directly, but he must have friends, family, staff. Does he need a maid? A secretary, maybe? Just find any way you can, to get me five minutes of his time. Please. That's all I'm asking you to do... Nothing more." I look at him with hope, and pleading eyes, ignoring all his comments and concerns about Christian and his anger.

I don't see that as a major part of him. I can understand his anger and irritability, he's in pain and internally suffering. Has always been in pain and silently suffering. Just like I was. Only, I hid mine better, by the sounds of it.

Mr Grant, remains quiet as he ponders, considering what I've asked of him. He's studying me closely and I can tell he feels for me and wants to help, but he's still very dubious about getting involved with Christian Grey. He blatantly stares at me silently, quizzically as he considers my imploring requests.

"You don't seem like a desperate woman, Miss Steele. So why is it so important for you to have access to him?" Mr Grant asks me calmly after a few quiet minutes.

"I told you, we met as children." I say simply, but his brow lifts slowly, indicating, that he's not going to accept my brief explanation, and wants more details.

"But you never kept in touch with him?" he urges me on, repeating, what I told him earlier. I shake my head.

"No, we didn't, which is why, I just need to pop in and say, 'hello'." I try and joke, but he doesn't even give me a hint of a smile, he just continues to look at me. His face is stoic, but his eyes are thoughtful and questioning.

I can see that he doesn't believe me. He knows there's more to it than I'm letting on. He probably thinks, I've got some hidden agenda, which I supposed I have, but it's nothing bad, nothing, like he probably thinks it is.

What do I tell him? What do I share with him?

I don't know how I feel about this man, this stranger, knowing everything that happened between Christian and I, despite how comfortable he makes me feel, but I do know that I need his help. He won't give it easily or freely, so I have to give him something in return, but how much?

"Mr Grant, I'm not a stalker or a psychotic, serial killer, I promise you. I don't have an ulterior motive or wicked plan up my sleeve. I don't want anything from Christian Grey... I just need to meet him, that's all." I tell him honestly.

Mr Grant's eyes lower, his forehead creasing as he shakes his head. He's still unconvinced, and far too cautious.

"Please, before you say no, would you at least try to make contact for me, while I'm here, just once? Could just call him up, use any excuse, but allow me to jump in on the conversation?" I suggest eagerly, desperately clutching at straws.

Mr Grant's eyes widen as he shakes his head. "Oh, Miss Steele, if only it were that simple." he chuckles, looking at me with compassion and indulgence, like the grandfather he no doubt is.

He thinks I'm insane.

"Please try." I whisper, my hope fading fast, with his continued reluctance.

"Honestly, calling his office would be futile and get us nowhere, but we could draft a letter, have it couriered over and wait for..."

I huff to myself in exasperation at his suggestion, causing him to pause. I shake my head at him, knowing, I could never tell Christian about my existence by letter, he would never believe me. I need to look him in the eye.

"That won't work, I need to speak to him, in person." I tell Mr Grant, adamantly.

"If you want my help with contacting him, then I need your help too," Mr Grant replies, just as adamantly. "You have to trust me," he utters more softly, and I know he's right. "There's more to this than you're letting on."

I hold my tongue as he sits back in his chair and looks at me. Patiently. I have to be honest and open with him. He needs me to be, before he'll even consider helping me.

Resigned, to what I have to do, and slightly embarrassed. I place my cup on the desk next to his, and notice for the first time, the nameplate that's positioned on his desk, between his computer and desk lamp.

Mr W. Grant.

The gold calligraphy reads.

"What does the W, stand for?" I ask, shifting my feet from under me and sitting up straight in my chair.

"William," he informs me. "But, my friends call me Will." he adds with a smile.

"Will." I repeat. Thinking, that it suits him.

"What is your full name, Miss Steele?" he asks curiously.

"Anastasia, Rose, but my friends call me, Ana."

"Anastasia, is a lovely name but you look like an Annie." Mr Grant says with a chuckle. My heart twists at the sound of my old pet name.

"What?" he says quietly as he notices my eyes sadden.

"My Father, he used to call me Annie." I tell him in a sullen, small voice.

"It suits you." he says tenderly. "Tell me Ana, why is meeting Christian Grey, so important to you?" he questions, in the same tender tone.

I look up at him, his eyes imploring and earnest. I feel a wave of ease rush over me, and know I can trust him with my past.

I sit squarely in my chair, holding his eye as I begin to unbutton my shirt. Mr Grant catches the movement of my fingers and begins to look uncomfortable. He flushes as he stands abruptly and looks towards his office door, for help.

"Miss Steele, I don't think..." his nervous voice begins, but I interrupt him quickly.

"Mr Grant... Will, I need your help, and I need you to believe, and trust me, when I tell you that I mean Christian, no harm. The only way I can do that is by showing you something." I tell him truthfully, ignoring the heat I can feel rising up my neck at the thought of undressing in front of him.

Will frowns, still looking dubious, but nods, reluctantly, for me to continue. He leaves my side and walks to shield himself behind his desk. He sits, stone still. His eyes leaving mine, and focusing on other things around the room, anything. While I continue to undress.

"Have you met Christian, personally?" I ask, trying to make conversation. Hopefully, making him, and myself, feel more comfortable with this whole removal of my clothes situation.

"Yes." he replies, and my hopes suddenly lift as my fingers pause.

Will, must see the light in my eyes as he glances at me, but he douses my hope, quickly.

"I've only met him in passing on a few occasions, Ana. My wife, Rebbecca, volunteers her time with his mother's foundation. So we have been introduced. He's occasionally, attended local charity events and we've crossed paths at the rare honorary dinners that he's attended, fleetingly, but I've never dealt with him professionally, nor met him on any personal level... Christian Grey, is not a man you can get close to." Will concludes, looking away as I pull off my shirt and begin to reach for the hem of the white T-shirt that I have on underneath.

"Does he have any scars on his body?" I ask, knowing that even though Christian didn't perish that night, the flames he got caught up in, must have left their mark on him to some degree.

"Yes, he has." he states, and his eyes meet mine as he frowns.

"Me too." I utter from under my t-shirt, and even before my head is free from the cotton, I hear Will's sharp gasp.

As I clutch my T-shirt to my chest, covering my underwear and trying to retain some modesty, I feel Will's eyes burning into my skin. His gaze is caught and held, by the pink, one inch scar that sits on the swell of my left breast. The scar, just above my heart, that I carry with me from that night. The scar, that's clear for him to see. His eyes crease before lifting and meeting mine.

"Please, redress Ana, but I'm sorry, I don't understand." he utters, looking at me with sympathy, but also confusion.

"When Christian was Fifteen, he was involved in a car accident. He..." I begin, swiftly pulling on my T-shirt back on.

"Yes, he was. It's public record, his Father died." Will interrupts, looking at me skeptically.

I understand his wariness, I know he's probably wondering how I know this bit of information about Christian, when I knew nothing else. His mouth opens to ask me.

"I know this, because I was there." I say before his words are formed and spoken.

"You? You were there?" he utters curiously.

"Yes. The night, Christian Grey lost his Father... The night, I lost my Father. Christian, saved my life."

"How? No one's ever..." Will begins to question.

"Can you have Sylvia bring in more tea, and I'll explain everything?" I ask, suddenly eager to tell him about that night.

"Of course Ana, make yourself comfortable." he says quickly, while pushing the buzzer on his desk.

I do just that.

Half an hour later, I've shared the entire, unedited version of my past, for the first time, with a stranger. Funnily enough, it felt very therapeutic letting it all out, but that's hardly surprising as I am curled up in a leather wingback, in a dark office, lounging comfortably in front of a suit.

What eased me the most, was that Will, never moved, never interrupted, never uttered a single word, until I had finished.

"Bless you, both." he breathed.

Truthfully, it was easier than I thought, sharing with Will. I thinks it's because I now know that Christian, is alive and well. Hopefully, my honesty, will lead me to him, and not come back to bite me.

"Will you help me meet him?" I whisper as the silence in the room becomes to much for me to bear.

Will, nods slowly, absentmindedly, totally lost in thought. His eyes are glazed, his expression is almost lost, but as his eyes eventually clear and meet mine. I smile, at the awe they project my way.

"It's not gonna be easy, Ana, and I'm unsure of a time scale, there are many factors that..." his voice dwindles off as he begins to fiddle with his computer.

I sit back in my chair, letting him drift, helping myself to another chocolate biscuit. I watch the concentration on his face as he busies himself, and can finally breathe. Fully relieved and comforted, knowing I have him in my corner.

"It's Friday now, give me the weekend to gather some general intel. I'll put a few guys on him, and see what we can bring to light before Monday." he suggests, in total P.I. mode.

"Thank you so much Will, you don't know what this means to me." I say as I sit up straight. I feel my nerves buzz, and apprehension rise at the thought of where this could lead.

"I think I do Ana, but I can't promise anything at this stage. I'm unsure of how close I can actually get you to him." he tells me truthfully, seeming very regretful.

"Why are you even trying to help me, if it's an impossible task?" I query absentmindedly, out loud.

"It's simple Ana, if you wanted to be back in my life, after what we'd both been through, then I'd like to think that someone was helping you."

He turns his gaze back to his computer and suddenly, the printer in the corner of the room begins to churn out page after page of information.

Will, leaves his desk after a few minutes and gathers together all the freshly printed documents. He places them into a file before handing it to me. As my hand wraps around the file with itching fingers, he looks me square in the eye.

"I also want to help you, Ana... because it looks like he needs to see you. Christian Grey, has never had a friendly demeanor or approachable personality. He always seems so angry, so distant, and truthfully he..."

"He's pained and guilt ridden, Will," I interrupt, keen to defend Christian. "His personality is only to be expected, don't you think? He thinks I'm dead, he believes that he killed me and I know what that guilt is like to carry around with you." I sound sharp, but I don't mean to be.

Will nods, clearly understanding me, and The man, behind the ferocious, standoffish persona, a bit better now, and clearly sympathizing. Will suddenly stands, his posture, sure and proud.

"Then we are clearly doing the right thing." he states, urging me to stand. So he can no doubt get on. "I'll see you Monday morning, Ana. First thing." he says, taking my hand and squeezing it tenderly. I return the gesture, fighting the urge I have to hug him, and squeal excitedly.

I leave Will's, office, clutching the file close to my chest. I bid Sylvia, a silent farewell, while she's busy on the phone. I blindly, ride the elevator and step on the the busy street.

The clouds have rolled in and it's drizzling with light rain. I lift my head and close my eyes allowing the moisture to cleanse my skin and ground me.

I don't know what I hold in my hands. I don't know how it will help in my quest to get close to Christian, but I'm thankful for Will, and any help he can give me, and eager to investigate.

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	10. Chapter 10 - Despondency

A/N

Thank you all, for reading this far.

Just a quick heads up. If you don't like the thought of Christian with anybody else, then you might want to skip the second half of this snippet from Christian.

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Chapter Ten

Despondency.

 _ **Christian.**_

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Leaving, the damp, firm, shore line. I head back, across the looser sand toward Tess. She's under her gazebo, resting, lying on her front with her head on her paws. Her eyes, firmly on me.

She looks happy enough, protected, under the wooden structure I had purposefully built for her, a few summers back. It was needed as the sun gets to her, tires her easily, so she's thankful for the shade. I chuckle out loud, as her tail begins to wag, faster and faster, the closer I get to her. It gets me every time.

There was a time, and not so long ago, when Tess, would've been on my heels during my run. When she was younger, I found it hard to keep up with her, whenever she got over excited. I miss running with her, I miss her keeping pace with me. Age has crept up on her, and her weak legs can't take it now, but I really do miss it. I miss the vibrancy of her.

Flopping onto the sand next to her, I reach for the bottle of water that I left beside her. I take a deep, thirst quenching swig, before pouring the rest over my head and nape of my neck. I squirm with an, 'arrggh,' as Tess, begins to lick at the drops and splashes that are falling and landing on my thighs.

The feel of the water, and coarse, lapping tongue of a grateful dog on my skin, sparks a memory from when there were three of us. I smile to myself, letting my thoughts drift off where they please. Enjoying, the untainted vision, from our short time at the lake.

I think of Ana, a lot, when I'm here with Tess. It's hardly surprising, but thankfully, Tess, has always had a calming influence on me. Which is a good thing as I can't see one, without the other. I love being here with her, though. I've spent nearly every weekend here since buying the place, because Escala, was no place for a dog. Even though, it was kind of funny, watching her slip and slide around on the marble floors, when she couldn't find traction.

Despite, Tess's experience of falling in the lake, she's never had a fear of water. She always loved, splashing about in the pool at Belle Vue, with Elliot and me, when we were kids. So buying a beach front property, was a no brainer for me. She used to love roaming the deck of my boat with me as well, but her balance lets her down now.

I lay back, flat against the cool, shaded sand. Tess, quickly shuffles herself, so she's on her side and her head is resting on my stomach. I throw an arm over her and bury my hand in her soft fur. The feel of her thinning coat in between my fingers, instantly soothes and de-stresses, just as it always has.

The sun, setting over the water, brings another day to an end and I really need to head inside. I have a few things to do before my weekend guest arrives. I shift myself and attempt to sit up, but Tess's heavy head, falls into my lap. I wriggle underneath her, hindered by the sand, chuckling at her reluctance to move herself and let me up.

I pet her head and scratch her neck for a few more minutes, ceasing, only when her eyes roll closed and her back leg starts to twitch. I chuckle deeply at the involuntary action. As much as I'd love to just stay here in this moment with her, I really need to ready myself for my house guest. I snort to myself. House Guest.

I need to ready myself for my Submissive.

After a gruelling week at work, some people like to drink, smoke, gamble or spend hours at the gym to unwind and de-stress themselves. I, like to fuck my stress and frustration away. Or rather, I used too.

Due to the disfigurement of my skin, I can't bear to be touched. I can't even tolerate being looked at. The shock, then pity, I've always seen displayed on peoples faces, whenever they've caught sight of my tarnished back and neck, rakes and annoys me beyond measure. So bar, professionals, I've never allowed it.

Due to the guilt I've held tight and kept prominent in my life, I've never been in a relationship. I wouldn't know how to be in a relationship with anyone. I don't feel like I deserve to have someone of my own, so I choose to contract a Submissive.

It's always been an ideal situation for me, my choice, my rules, my way. I've always needed the reassurance that there would never be any unwanted, or unexpected, physical contact. For that reason, I've never allowed any of my Submissives to touch me, look at me, or even speak to me. Without my express permission to do so.

Like any man, I enjoy the release that comes with being with another human being, but there has to be rules, restrictions, and restraints, with my sexual partners. I don't want a relationship, or lines to blur, so I have a room for such a purpose.

My current sexual partner, is Leila. Leila Williams.

I chose Leila, and all of my Submissives before her, because of their resemblance to the girl I once knew. The girl, who lost her life by my hand. Their height, body shape, even their coloring, is how I imagine Ana would look now... Had she been given the chance to grow and mature.

I'll admit, that I've never contracted a blue eyed Submissive. The eye color I remember, and am constantly tormented by in my dreams, could never be replicated, so I've never even tried. I think that would be taking myself punishment, just a little bit too far.

When I contracted, my first Submissive. I fooled myself into thinking that it could be a way to hold on to, Ana. Away, to be able to tell her, silently, how sorry I was and appease myself for what I did to her. I soon realized, that that was never going to happen. I've never been able to get close enough to any of my Submissives, to express any part of that. Not one of them. Despite their similarities, and my need to do so.

My Submissives, serve a simple, solitary, purpose now, and that's all. I can lose myself, for a short time, in the pleasure their bodies bring, but it's empty, hollow, worthless. There's no real connection, no real emotion involved, bar the actual physical release. It's good to escape reality for a while, and I do tend to sleep a bit better once I'm physically exhausted, and that's one thing about Leila, her stamina is good, but is it all worth it? It's become so tedious and monotonous.

At the thought of Leila. I see her car pull up at the house, and watch her as she takes her bag from the trunk and enters the house through the coded, side door. Having caught sight of her, in her casual jeans and t-shirt, with her hair swinging in a high braid, she seems so young and childlike, and I'm reluctant to move. Despite, how my body wants to.

I can feel the young Ana, creeping into me. She's hiding behind my eyelids and swimming around in my subconscious. Waiting to swoop in and strike. Just like she always has. I clear my mind, and do what I always do. I bury my guilty thoughts, behind the anticipation of physical pleasure.

Pushing myself up from the sand, with Tess on my heels, I trudge back into the house. Tess, is not too fond of Leila, so I settle her in the kitchen before heading upstairs to shower, and join Leila in my playroom.

My body is expectant, and instantly aroused, at the sight of Leila, naked, on her knees, beside the bed. Her hood, firmly in place. My eyes linger, enjoying the sight of her. Playing around with thoughts of what I'd like to do with her body. I allow my body, and not my broken, yearning mind, to take full control.

I order her to stand, and attempt to switch off.

Leila, is very close to my imaginary, version of Ana.

When our contract first started, I only ever blindfolded her, so she, couldn't look at me. I wanted to see her resemblance to the solace I sought, but now, when I'm with her, only a hood or a darkened room will suffice. I can't bare to see Ana, portrayed back at me.

I enjoy her faceless body for a time, and nothing else.

Don't get me wrong, Leila is a nice enough girl and I treat her with respect, but I have no real interest in her outside of my playroom. I don't interact with her much at all, while she's here over the weekends. We share our meals, but very rarely talk. She potters about, if she's not in her room, but I pay her no mind.

If I'm not in my playroom with her, then I'm either running or busy in my office. I don't need anything more from her. I don't wish to spend my time with her. She fills a sexual need I have, nothing more, and truthfully, that need, is getting harder and harder to fill. I'm spending less, and less time with her.

As if my very soul understands that I need more, it doesn't take long for my head to twist and over rule my aroused body. It starts, by distracting me, with these self berating inner monologues, and how on earth, can I concentrate on what I'm doing during these. My body, then floods, with feelings and emotions that I don't understand, and can never escape from, and soon, I've had enough.

Dismissing Leila, the night ends like most of them I spend here with her. With her in her room and me, once again lost on the beach. Usually, with Tess.

As my feet trudge through the sand, my i-pod blasts into my ears. My mind rolls and lands on the thought, that maybe, my going to visit the crash site, wasn't such a good idea after all. Since then, everything seems fresh and more painful and I can't seem to clear my head of the girl I killed. No matter what I've told myself or what I foolishly hope, to believe, the guilt is never going to dissipate. It will always be lurking.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?

When will I realize, that it's all a waste of time?

I can't bring her back, nothing can. I can't change anything. I can't ever tell her that I'm sorry.

Why, can't I let her go?

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A/N

Don't worry, Leila, isn't around for long, but she does play a key part in helping, Ana.


	11. Chapter 11 - Disheartened

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Chapter Eleven.

Disheartened.

 _ **Ana.**_

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Leaving Will's office, I nearly sprint all the way back to my car. I'm itching to dive into the information he gave me, but I don't want to start looking through it, while I'm wandering down the street. God, only knows, where I'd end up.

Once I'm back in my car, and with the help of my phone, I locate, and book myself, into a room at a nearby hotel. Nothing to swanky or expensive, but it's close by and looks nice enough from its website. I head there nervously, filled with anticipation, eager to find out what I can, in regards to Christian.

An hour later. I've checked into my room, unpacked the small bag I brought with me from home, and taken a quick shower. Room service has arrived, I'm settled on the small sofa in my pj's, and now that I know there's nothing else to distract, or interrupt me, I flip open the file that Will gave me and dive right in.

As I'm reading, I pull out my laptop and begin researching Christian further. Using the information in the file as starting points. My eyes begin to blur as I scroll down the list of links that correspond with simply entering his name into a search engine. The more I delve into the life of this man, the more daunting this becomes. Honestly, I don't know where to start.

For someone so young, Christian, has been one hell of a busy guy.

There are hundreds of news clippings, videos, and even interviews, documenting his successful, business dealings and rise to self made CEO. It's very impressive, but Will, was right, he's known to be ruthless in the boardroom and takes no prisoners, in order to get what he wants. He is also a very rare, very stoical interviewee. I've found it hard, near impossible even, to find one picture of him, with a hint of a smile on his face. Never mind, a full blown smile.

He seems cold, hard, indifferent, and Will, was correct again, very unapproachable. How do I penetrate that? How do I gain entry to his mans life, and mix in his circles? How do I break down the walls he's build around himself, when I can't get close enough to him to try? He's kept himself separated, aloof and unreachable, and trying to breach all he has around him, makes me nervous, and not in a good way.

I understand, why he is the way he is. I lived a similar life, not so long ago, just without the millionaire perks and top notch, security. So no matter what, I have to find a way to reach him. For his sake, if nothing else.

Refocusing, and jumping from another starting block. It's like reading about a completely different entity. The charitable side to Christian Grey is awe inspiring. His sizable, charitable donations, and aid shipments to needy country's, fills me with pride and brings a tear to my eye. It's proudly splashed all over the news and evenly balances out the tyrant, ruling the business section.

Even his schooling was impressive, he went to Harvard, no less. Granted, he never graduated, but it certainly didn't hinder him in any way. Then, there is his family, each and everyone, accomplished in some way, but the more I research, the more frustrated I become, because there really is nothing personal.

Will, was right, there's nothing linking him to any interests outside of work, or with any woman romantically. None whatsoever. There's nothing to latch on to. Nothing, that can help me get my foot in the door. Not unless, I have a company that needs rescuing, or a charity function that I'd like him to attend, then I haven't a hope of getting near him.

I begin to research Escala, considering, no matter how dangerous it might be, just braving it out and knocking on his door, but it's futile. It's all authorized guests, high-tech security and access codes. It would be impossible, to just walk in off the street and ring his doorbell, and even though I've watch countless episodes of Leverage, and consider myself quiet agile. I could never do a Parker, and zip wire onto the roof from an adjacent building. Even though it would be the nearest point of entry for contact as Christian resides in the penthouse. Of course he does.

What is it with this guy and heights?

Considering everything, Grey House, seems to be the most viable and accessible option open to me. It's the one place, Christian, seems to spend most of his time. I know that security is rigid, and the 'witch' sitting in reception won't let me pass her easily, but it offers me a wide range of variables and too many opportunities for contact, to avoid. So that is where I will focus my efforts.

The more I research Grey House, the more the building fascinates me. The building its self, is broken up into several large Grey, departments, but it also leases out floors to many smaller businesses. The structure itself is prime real estate, and Christian, has used every square inch of it to its full advantage.

Including, all four corners.

The larger of the two, front facing corners, is a trendy looking, coffee shop. A coffee shop, that of course, I will frequent. He has to drink, right? Plus, it's a good spot to watch the main entrance to the building from, especially in the morning. Will Christian use the front entrance? Somehow, with him being the boss and everything, I can't see him just walking in and out with his staff every day. He, probably, drives into the building and has a private entrance, just for himself. Heaven forbid, he should actually mingle with the ants, below him. I try not to feel too disappointed at the barriers that are appearing left, right and center.

I smile to myself as I check out the adjacent corner, because that, is where I'll be spending most of my time, and not just because it has a clear view of the underground parking garage, but because it's a bookstore. An enticing, warm and welcoming, looking book store that is calling out to me. Considering I've an English degree, it really will be no hardship at all, to linger in there all day.

I can't believe, I never noticed the attributes to Grey House, before, but it's understandable. I went there, with blind determined, tunnel vision, and left, with tears of frustration and anger pooling my eyes. I wasn't really assessing my surroundings at the time.

The rear of the building, is just as opportunistic. It holds a private gym, which of course I'll join. I'll definitely, be making use of their treadmills, because I've missed my morning runs. It's been a few months, since I've felt refreshed enough for a morning run. After sleepless nights, exercise is the last thing on my mind when I can barely stand. Maybe, after a few nights of sleeping better, I could venture out around Seattle. The thought appeals.

The final corner of the building, is a music story, and it's like he has every base covered. It's been so long since I've sat down and played my guitar, that I'm gutted I never thought to bring it with me, but I could always pop in and buy a new one. See, every corner is a dream. It really won't be a chore, loitering around Christian's building all day, hoping for an opening.

I wonder, if the building suits Christian, himself. Is he musical? Does he like to keep fit? Can he lose time, lost in a good book, while nursing a cup of coffee? If he does, then we have a lot in common.

Shutting my laptop down, I place it on the sofa beside me, along with all the public record information, Will, gave me. I pull my legs up onto the sofa and recline as best I can. My eyes are beginning to cross and my head is swimming from reading for so long, and despite everything I've read, I'm feeling kind of frustrated, because what have I actually found out about him?

I've read every bit of information I can find on Christian, and feel like I know him inside out, yet I know nothing about him. I know everything he's done with his life, academically, business wise and generously, but nothing, nada about the man himself.

Who is he?

A big part of me, worries that I'll never get to find out. That I'll never get near him. His walls just seem to big to over come, but there has to be a way of meeting him. I just pray, that looking through less tired eyes in the morning, I might find something. A glimmer of a way in.

Why couldn't he be a regular Joe?

Glancing around my hotel room, I catch sight of the clock on the wall. It's later than I thought, so I quickly reach for my phone. I need to rest, clear my head, get some sleep, but I need to call Aunt Meg first. I promised to call her and let her know how I got on, and if I was staying.

I run to the en-suite bathroom, quickly take a pee, wash up and brush my teeth. I turn off the lights and pull open the drapes, to let in a little light, then jump into bed.

Meg, answers her phone, on the second ring. All eager and excited, to know the details about our reunion, but what could I tell her?

I gave her a brief run down of events with Will, etc., just to stop her worrying, and a promise to keep in touch. She wished me luck, ordered me to stay safe, and even though she didn't say it outright, I know she thinks I'm crazy, and this could all be a waste of time.

Laying in a strange bed, in a strange city, trying to get close to a man I don't know. I'm starting to think that maybe she's right and I am crazy. Should I let sleeping dogs lie? Should I take his stay away persona, as a sign to keep my distance? No, he needs to know I'm alive. He needs to see me, to believe it's me. He will be so relieved when he does. I know he will. I just have to get a chance to do it.

A phone call, a letter, an impersonal text or email, does not suit this situation. I could never inform him of my existence like that. He needs to hear it from me. I want him to hear it from me. I want to look him in the eyes when I tell him who I am. I want to see the life return, to his beautiful grey eyes.

Pushing my doubts aside. I snuggle down into my temporary bed, and wonder, what Christian is doing at this exact moment. The parted curtains, give me a glimpse of the life in this city, and it feels good to be here. Christian is here, this is his city, his life, and I want to be a part of it.

My mind begins to drift off with disjointed, but hopeful thoughts. I'm lulled into sleep, reassured, now I know for certain that Christian is alive and so, so close.

I just hope I can find a way to meet him. I know one thing, though. I won't give up until I do.

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It's hardly surprising, after spending so much time lost in the life of Christian, that I dreampt about him. What is surprising, is I never woke up, and it's now a little after 10.30 in the morning, and I can't remember ever sleeping so late, or for so long.

It's left me bright eyed, bushy tailed, and keen to investigate further. I'm more determined than ever to find a way of getting close to Christian. So, I stretch like a contented cat, jump out of bed, order breakfast, take a shower, then eagerly, log back on.

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As my eyes open on Sunday morning, I'm thankful, for the second night of uninterrupted, glorious sleep I've had, but I know for certain, that if I don't get out of this bed and out of this room, I'm going to go crazy.

I spent all of yesterday, just pigging out on room service, perched in front of my laptop, and truthfully, frustratingly, I'm no better off than I was on Friday.

I'm beginning to think that maybe I should just write him a letter?

When I close my eyes, lines of swirling text and numerous pictures of Christian, dance under my eyelids. I need to pull myself together and put some distance between me and all of this. I need to shake myself free for a bit.

So, today, is for me, and I feel like running.

I ring the concierge downstairs, and with his help, manage to obtain some running gear from the store in the Hotel. He advises me on a safe, and popular running route around the harbor, which is not too far away.

Within fifteen minutes, my clothes have arrived and before I can talk myself out of it, order breakfast, or give in to my laptop again. I don my running gear, pull on my trainers, a cap and dark shades, and hit the streets of Seattle. I hope to burn off my frustration, clear my head of piercing grey eyes, and impossibilities, and of course, blow the cobwebs away.

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	12. Chapter 12 - One Step Forward

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Chapter Twelve

One Step Forward, Two Steps back.

 _ **Christian**_

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I should have taken my first encounter with Leila, as a sign of things to come. By the time Sunday morning had come around, I was pulling my hair out in clumps. I couldn't bear to be around her, not for one second longer. I don't know what's gotten into her, but she seemed to be out of her room more than usual, and for some strange reason, hovering about.

After she tried to initiate conversation, for the third time in under an hour, I couldn't take any more from her and sent her home as soon as she'd finished her breakfast. I just couldn't settle or focus on anything at all. All weekend, it's been like this.

I've felt like my thoughts, feelings and emotions, were going to rip me in so many different directions. If I just paused for thought and allowed them to. I've tried to keep myself busy and my mind occupied, but something's off. Something's, just not sitting right within me, and it's driving me to distraction.

Leila, didn't help. Not at all. Her every movement annoyed me. Her mere presence, grated on my every nerve. I took her to my playroom on Saturday night, and I couldn't even bring myself to fuck her. Even hooded, she was far too familiar, and I couldn't bring my mind to heel. Not with the thought of Ana, and what I did to her, being so close and prominent.

She had to go.

Maybe, it's time for her to go... Permanently.

As much as I love being at the beach house, spending time with Tess. I need to get to the office. It's the only place where I'm truly free from any type of emotional pressure, and mental fatigue. My mind is always clear and sharp within those walls. I'm free from all the pressure, within those walls.

Once I'm sure Leila's left, and won't be loitering within my peripheral. I call Taylor, and ask him to meet me at Grey House, in a couple of hours. I need to burn off this growing anxiety and frustration, so, I plan on running there.

Running, has always helped clear my head, and that's what I need right now. I need to escape for a bit. Despite not sleeping well over the weekend, I'm fit to burst with pent up energy. My dreams, may have kept my subconscious mind active with disjointed visions. Ana, deep in the middle of them all. So I'm mentally fatigued, but I never woke up, not once, and my body is raring to go.

Half an hour later, after security arrives and I've said goodbye to Tess. I'm pounding the streets around the harbor. As my feet have churned up the miles. I've pondered and dredged over the past few days, and have affirmed, that my impulsive trip up north is definitely to blame for my uncertainty, and heightened emotional state.

Ever since I visited the crash site and left those flowers, I haven't been able to settle. Or, shake the feeling of dread from that night so long ago. I thought it would help me, attempting to put everything to rest, but it's as if going back there has ignited, and strengthened, everything that I fear and have fought, so fiercely, to suppress for years.

I think about, and can feel, Ana, more now, than I ever did before visiting. Going back there was obviously a serious error of judgment on my part. It's brought everything to the forefront again, and hasn't aided me at all. As if it could have ever helped in my appeasement. Ana, and that fateful night, have never, and will never leave me. What will it take for me to realize that?

As I near Grey House, running on autopilot. I turn a blind corner, and run smack, bang, into another runner. A woman. I hit her hard. Knocking her backwards, causing her to fall onto her behind. I curse, momentarily angry at being hindered and for my steady pace being interrupted.

Once I focus on her, though, and see her on the floor, all disheveled, nursing her sore elbow. The feelings quickly ebb. Cursing to myself some more, for being so un-chivalrous. I take a small step toward her, politely offering her my hand to help her to her feet. She hasn't moved or tried to right herself. She's just sitting on her ass, stunned, gaping up at me. I feel unease roll and consume at her scrutiny of me.

As she accepts my hand and her fingers touch mine. I feel my eyes widen. I ignore the tingling sensation in my palm, as my hand wraps around hers, but find myself taking her all in. Logging every detail of her to memory.

She's petite. Her limbs, svelte and shapely. She has amazing legs, and looks really good in her running shorts and tight fitting, T-shirt. Her dark hair is twisted, and hidden under a blue, mariners baseball cap. Even though, dark shades, cover her eyes, her features are soft and feminine. From what I can tell, anyway.

She begins to splutter, incoherently as she looks up at me. I stand, putting a little distance between us, taking her hand with me, trying to draw her up from the sidewalk. Her eyes follow me, but she doesn't. With the tilt of her head as her eyes ascend, her cap falls free. A beautiful, wave of chestnut hair, cascades down her back, and it hits me like a wrecking ball.

The sudden sight of her hair, caught in the sunlight, and the feel of her fingers in mine. Has the memories flooding through my mind. I'm suddenly blinded by sights and sounds of a young Ana. I feel a heat and tightening in my chest as my heart palpitates. My throat constricts, painfully as my next breath, fights to leave me, and I feel like I'm about to pass out.

What the fuck is going on? I can't see straight, never mind think. I need to leave. I need to get out of here, before I have to speak to her, interact with her, or before she has a chance to take off her sunglasses. The panic is coursing through me and soon becomes overwhelming, and all in reaction to a vague similarity.

"I'm sorry. I hope you're not hurt." I somehow manage to apologize, despite my coarse, dry throat. The girl on the floor, dumbly, shakes her head at me.

Without saying another word. I release her hand like it's on fire, and bolt. Leaving her sitting in the middle of the sidewalk just looking after me. I let my feet propel me in any direction away from there. Away from her.

After I've put some distance, and a few corners, between me and the woman on the floor. I pull myself up short and lean heavily, against the nearest wall. I take deep, gulping breaths as I try and control my rapidly, pounding heart. Before it bursts right out of my chest.

What the fuck was that?

How could a perfect stranger, and perfect she was, cause such a fucked up reaction in me, all because of something familiar? No, it was more than that. I've met many a beautiful brunette. It had nothing to do with her. Or, I shamefully admit, her amazing head of hair. It was all me.

Everything, is getting worse and more fucked up by the day. I'm starting to drive myself fucking crazy now. I'm trying to let Ana go, and ever since I made the conscious decision to do so, I seem to be reminded of her constantly. Now, it's obvious, that because I'm thinking of her so much, I'm starting to see her in people I encounter.

Fuck. I'm rattled and I don't have a hope in hell of concentrating in my office. Fuck only knows, what expensive, or rash decisions I could make. I need to vent. I need to do what I set out to do, before my run was sent to hell. I need to clear my head.

I stand upright, pushing myself away from the wall and quickly take my bearings. I'm relieved to find, that I'm close to the rear of Grey House.

I swiftly clear the couple of blocks it takes to get me there, and slip quietly into the music store. Ignoring the few customers, and limited Sunday staff who are pottering about. I let myself into the private playing room at the rear of the store, that houses a baby grand.

Sitting on the bench. I don't hesitate as I place my fingers on the keys, and let my frustration flow. I can still feel the lingering, haunting, presence of my tormentor. The ever present shadow of a deceased girl hanging over me, and my doleful, depressing, melody reflects that.

Music, soon fills the small space, and at one time, it was all I would hear, feel, and sense while playing. It protected and cocooned me in my own private world. Now. It can't shield me enough. She's in my head and there's no escaping that.

There's no escaping her.

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	13. Chapter 13 - Deja Vu

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Chapter Thirteen

Deja Vu

 _ **Ana**_

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Heading in the direction of Will's office. My feet are slow and sluggish. I hardly slept last night, I was far too restless and preoccupied. Trying to keep Christian out of my head was hard work, and my run yesterday, only made things worse. I can't believe I had my chance to speak to him, and I blew it. Big time. I turned to stone, swallowed my tongue and spluttered like an idiot.

I was shocked to distraction when it happened. Firstly, by being put on my ass and secondly, because it was Christian, who put me there. Hearing him curse, and feeling the heat from his angry, blazing eyes, had me mortified. By the time my brain had caught up, and begun to function enough for coherent speech, he'd ran off and was nothing but a blur in the distance.

Despondently, I pulled myself up, trudged back to my hotel and funnily enough, lost the urge to roam Seattle after that. I hid myself away in my hotel room, and dove into a book that I'd picked up from reception, forcing myself not to think of Christian again. Or his reaction to bumping into me.

I've held true to that conviction over the past twenty four hours, but today is a new day, and I'm keen to find out what Will, has managed to find out about Christian, over the weekend.

I'm not sure what time Will's office opens, but I'm impatient. I didn't want to just sit in my hotel room, watching the clock turn. I've been awake since it was light. Which is why, I'm out and about and plan on killing some time at the Grey House, coffee shop.

Ten minutes later, I'm standing in line, waiting for my beverage. Lost in the aroma of coffee, and sweet smelling pastries, I'm daydreaming. My head's, running through scenarios of how Will, may try, or maybe even have managed, to gain access to Christian. I hope his search has been more productive than mine has. It should be, he has more experience and resources than I do, and after missing my golden opportunity, I need his help more than ever.

My eyes refocus as the line shuffles forward. I bounce on my toes as I watch the barrister preparing my drink. I'm waiting, for a cup of hot chocolate, I thought it would be a safer option than coffee. I may be feeling tired, but I'm edgy, and don't need the added caffeine buzz, not this early in the day. The hot chocolate will be soothing.

When I hear my name being called. In a bored sounding mumble. I step up to the counter and gratefully, accept my cup. As I do, a sudden, and uncomfortable hush falls over the staff and regulars around me.

I turn, unconcerned, to head away from the counter, unintentionally, walking straight into the person standing behind me. My startled yelp, coincides with his growl of annoyance, as the cup I'm holding is squashed between me and the chest I've barged into.

I step back and stumble into the counter, feeling the heat from the spilt liquid, beginning to soak through my thin blouse. "So much for making an effort." I mutter to myself. I deliberately, wore a skirt and blouse today, so I would blend in a little. Well, the stain I'm now wearing, will in no way make me inconspicuous.

The guy, steps away, as the barrister, comes around from behind the counter and begins to fuss with concern and hands me a cloth. I accept it from her gratefully, and quickly begin to dab at the spill. She, then, attempts to aid the casualty of my unawareness, but she seems hesitant and becomes tongue tied as he snaps at her and refuses her help.

I look up, wanting to see the person I've scalded and apologies, but when I meet the eyes glaring back at me, I freeze. My hand stops moving as my body shivers and folds in on itself, as I feel a sudden rush of fear. The cold, blatant, hatred in the eyes glaring back at me, has me paralyzed, and I'm speechless.

More so, than yesterday.

It's Christian, who I've bumped into. Again, and he looks royally pissed.

His fuming eyes, sear into mine, holding me captive. It feels like it's never going to end, but as his breathing deepens, I see it crack and dissipate. His eyes darken further, before they widen, with what looks like fear, pain, then pure anger fueled frustration.

I stare, dumbfounded and shaken to my very soul. My growing nerves and sheer terror, keeping me from moving. How can a man, freeze you to the bone with a single look? How can someone express so much, without saying a word?

Why is he looking at me like that? Like he hates me.

Just as my faculties return, I hear his mumbled apology and catch his abrupt departure. Again. A tall, buzz cut security detail, steps in front of me, blocking my path, just as my feet begin to follow.

My eyes, remain on Christian's retreating form as I feel the palm of the security detail resting on my shoulder. He mumbles something to me, while holding out a card. I mutter my name at his request for it, and hear the words, "New attire, charge to, please accept..." But I'm not listening anymore. I'm watching the back of the man that brought me here, and once again he's leaving.

It only takes seconds, for me to lose sight of him in the crowd outside. I reluctantly, bring my eyes back to the suit in front of me, and take the card being offered. He gives me a sharp, respectful nod, and before I can ask him anything, he's turned and followed Christian out of the coffee shop.

I gape after him dumbfounded.

It's happened again. Why does he stun me to the bone?

As sense, slowly returns. I note the room is still quiet and eyes are lingering in my direction. I can feel my cheeks flame as the hurt and disappointment rushes through me. My embarrassment, becomes unbearable, when looks of sympathy, and amusement, begin to head my way. All the attention is suddenly too much, and I need to get out of here.

Ignoring the eyes that follow me, and the baristar calling after me, offering me another drink. I head out of the coffee shop, and allow myself to be swallowed up by the crowd. I start to walk in the direction of Will's office, trying to ignore my growing doubts and confusion as my frustration grows.

I try to rein in my emotions as passersby glance my way, for just a second to long. I must look a sight, but I don't care. I'm to angry, no, not angry. Pissed. I'm pissed. First at myself, for once again missing my chance to speak to him, and secondly, at Christian. I'm pissed he didn't recognize me.

Then again, maybe he did and doesn't want anything to do with me. I admit consciously, and my feet falter for just a second. It's believable. I got exactly the same reaction yesterday. Instant hatred. It's written all over his face, and even if it wasn't, his disappearing act within seconds is more than enough proof that he can't get away from me quick enough.

Why? Why? Why? Why does he look at me with such venom?

Does he blames me for the death of his father?

Maybe, Aunt Meg's right, and this is all a waste of time, and a very bad idea. Maybe I should leave things as they are?

I've bumped into him twice now, and each time has ended the exact same way.

Maybe, I should take it as an omen? Maybe, I should listen to my gut.

Maybe, I should just head home?

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A/N

I'm sorry for all these dribble chapters, but the word count will grow as the story does.


	14. Chapter 14 - Delusion

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Chapter Fourteen

Apparition

 _ **Christian**_

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As I take in the apparition, paralyzed in front of me. I disregard the fact that I'm fuming, because my suit, has no doubt been ruined, and overlook, that I, too, appear rooted to the spot and can't seem to move. Despite our mutual discomfort and unfortunate state, and knowing that I should be helping her, I find I'm unable.

I deliberately, ignore the shock and embarrassment she must be feeling, and focus all my attention on staring at her. My eyes, sear into hers blatantly, disrespectfully, but I find I don't care. Even though, I can clearly see that I'm frightening her, I can't find the will to cease. Or free her, from my heated, hateful gaze.

The resemblance, is remarkable.

Purely, remarkable.

I truly, can't believe what I'm seeing.

This woman, gaping back at me, like she's caught by a viper. Is just how I imagine Ana, would have looked as an adult. She's a little taller than I imagined, and holds a feminine shape that I never considered the child, I killed could grow into, but her chestnut hair, her bright blue eyes, her entire face shape, is Ana.

To an absolute, T.

When her eyes meet mine, I freeze. As does she. My body chills to the bone and my breathing falters, because her eyes, her amazing blue eyes, are a mirror image of the expressive, blue orbs that torment me every night. They're mesmerizing, beautiful, captivating... And wrong.

They're so familiar and beguiling, and shouldn't be staring back at me from this woman. They can't, be staring back at me from this woman. I take a sharp intake of breath as the heat from the liquid spilt on me, finally soaks through my clothes and kick starts my rationality.

My eyes, leave hers, briefly, and take in every detail of her. I appraise her, from head to toe. She's perfect...and it sickens me.

When my eyes return to hers, they burn with the uncontrollable, rising detestation that I feel for her. I can feel it rage and spread right through me, but when I notice her cower, I shiver with shame and can't stand it anymore.

The mirage, I'm caught up in, turns my stomach. She's a true replica of the girl I killed, and it's torture. I can feel the bile rise up into my throat, and I know that I can't remain here for a second longer. I drag my eyes aware from hers with one final disdainful glare, before turning sharply on my heel.

Ignoring the stares from those around me. I indicate to Taylor, for him, to deal with the girl I've inadvertently scalded. While I, flee the premises. I can't bear to be near her, can't bear to look at her. The tightening in my chest and inability to breathe, proves that.

I grunt, a poor excuse for an apology at her, and vacate the coffee shop as quickly as I can. Grateful, for being instantly swallowed up by the crowd. I breathe easy, once there's a safe distance between us.

Unperturbed or concerned, with the stain on my jacket and shirt, I stride through the doors of Grey House. I ignore the curious looks from everyone I pass as I head purposefully towards the private elevators. Pushing the call button with frustration, I curse to myself as my mind races.

Why, are brunettes, suddenly everywhere? First the jogger yesterday, now this girl today. Has my inner torment and turmoil, finally taken hold enough to cause my eyes to play tricks on me? Am I seeing, only what I want to see in these women because Ana, is so prominent in my head right now? It can't purely be coincidental. Surely?

It's justified, condemnation-al torment. That's what it is. Just when I make a conscious decision, and weak attempt, to let Ana go, she's everywhere. Haunting me. Tormenting me. Proving, undoubtedly, that I don't deserve forgiveness. I don't deserve to forget what I did that night. I don't deserve to forget how I ended her life. Ever.

When my office door slams shut behind me, I lean back against it and slid to the floor. I rest my head on my knees as my ass hits the marble and take a deep breath. Bad move. The sweet smell of hot chocolate wafts from my clothes, filling my nostrils, and I can't get the image of the soaked woman out of my mind.

She was damn, near perfect.

Too perfect.

Deludingly perfect.

With frustration, I begin to pull my tie free as I pull myself up from the floor and right myself. I head straight across the room to my private bathroom. Where I rapidly, shower and change, and where I always keep spare clothes. Once I've freshed up, and washed her from me, I slump at my desk. Resting my forehead on the cool, glass top. I consider, whether I should up my sessions with John. It's just my fucked up luck, that when I really need him he's out of town.

Maybe, it's time to finally be honest with him and tell him everything. I think at this point I have no other option. It's one thing, to self berate and be unforgiving, but another thing entirely, to start hallucinating.

What's worrying me the most, though, and what scares me the most, was my reaction to her. It was heart stopping. When her eyes met mine, for just a fraction of a second, I was once again, fifteen years old. Ana was right there with me. Smiling, happy, alive. Then time caught up to me, like a swift kick in the guts.

I felt it in my gut too. It rolled and sent a wave of nervous energy, like I've never felt before, right though me. My palms began to sweat and my mouth started to water. There was a strong possibility that I would have retched at her feet, had I stayed, enraptured in my delusion any longer.

I jump, as the intercom sounds and vibrates through the glass of my desk. I raise my head, square my shoulders, and welcome Andrea's interruption.

As she informs me that my first appointment of the day is here, I apply my hard persona. Pull on my mask of cold, hard, indifference and prepare to be the man people expect. The man, people fear. The man, who people expect, and know, to be in control.

Until I can talk to John. Until I can have my sanity verified. I'll do what I do best. I'll bury myself in Grey House, because nothing can touch me then.

Nothing, can touch me here.

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	15. Chapter 15 - Structure

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Chapter Fifteen.

Structure.

 _ **Ana.**_

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.

Stepping onto the crowded elevator, situated in Will's office building. I only realize that I'm still holding the empty, Starbucks cup, once the aroma of hot chocolate fills the confined space, and people around me begin shuffling away from me. Well, as best they can in a metal box, anyway. I catch sight of my reflection in the mirrored doors through the gap in front of me, and roll my eyes at my appearance. Christ. I look a mess.

Stepping off the elevator. Sylvia, spots me immediately. Her eyes widen at my ruined attire, and I'm sure she's going to question me, but thankfully, Will, appears from his office before she can utter a word.

"Well, good morning An..." he greets me cheerfully. Stopping abruptly, when he sees the state of me, all stained and sticky. I shake my head at him.

"Don't ask." I state, with another roll of my eyes at myself as I head over to the pair.

Part of me, wants to laugh out loud at the ironic value of today, and another part, the bigger part, wants to scream.

"Sylvia, please find Miss Steele a towel, and show her to the bathrooms." Will, instructs and retreats back into his office.

Sylvia, rises immediately to her feet, and ushers me quickly to the staff break room. She heads to the small attached cloak room, and begins to rifle through a large gym bag. She, then, turns towards me, and with a smile, offers me a clean t-shirt, her toiletry bag and a fresh towel.

"I swim after work." she explains, before I can question why she has such things with her.

I thank her profusely, and head eagerly toward the bathroom, to wash up and change. As I strip off my ruined blouse and clean myself up, my anger slowly dissipates. By the time I'm done, I feel a little more like myself.

"What happened to you, Ana?" Will asks, as I enter his office a few minutes later.

"I met him." is all I offer, as I sit, and settle myself into the familiar wing back chair.

"Who? Mr Grey." he asks, his eyebrows lifting into his hairline with surprise.

"Yes." I reply, smiling and sitting up straighter in my seat as Sylvia enters the room.

She's carrying her usual tray, laden with warm and sweet, biscuit goodies, and I really need the comforting, sugar rush right now. I never even took a sip of my hot chocolate. I chuff to myself. I don't think I'll ever be able to smell that aroma again, without thinking of Christian, and the hate he displayed toward me.

"When?" Will asks, bringing me out of my musings, and smiling his thanks to Sylvia, after accepting a cup of coffee.

"A moment ago. I just bumped into him at the Grey House coffee shop, literally bumped into him." I reply, indicating to myself, and giving an explanation for the state I'm in.

"How did it go?" he asks as he chuckles.

I smile, despite the dejection I feel. "It didn't, he turned on his heel and left me stood there, dripping. His security was kind enough to give me his card, and instruct me to replace my clothing, though." I explain, with a small shoulder shrug.

"Well, as first meetings go, I suppose it..."

"It wasn't our first meeting." I interrupt, and Will's eyes widen with curiosity. I chuckle at his blatant eagerness.

"No?" he questions. Sitting back in his chair, waiting for all the details.

"No, I also met him yesterday, whilst out running. I have the sore elbow to prove it." I utter, rubbing said elbow. Will's brow creases with concern for me as he scans my arm. "Christian, ran into me, knocking me over, but I got the same reaction as today, he fled." I add with a smile. Reassuring him that I'm okay.

"He ran from you?" Will asks quirking his brow quizzically. I simply nod.

"As soon as he saw me, he ran. He never said anything, either time, barr a mumbled apology." I explain further.

"I've never known Christian Grey, to be lost for words." Will says with a bemused chuckle.

"I was no better, though. I was too dumbstruck to say anything to him. I froze, just like I did today. I couldn't even introduce myself." I confess, exasperatedly, and with a deep frustrated sigh.

For some reason, it causes us both to chuckle. I roll with it, allowing a belly laugh to grow and escape, because I know if I don't laugh about this, then I'll surely cry.

"Sounds like you've had an eventful few days." Will, says with a smile. Which I force myself to mimic and hold. Knowing, that he's trying to comfort me. "How do you feel, now that you've actually seen him in person, after all of these years?" Will, asks.

How do I feel?

My forced, false bravado, drops as I think about it.

"He's clearly, not the compassionate boy I knew, but he's definitely the boy that saved my life. You're right, though, his once friendly demeanor, and approachable personality have turned to stone." I pause, as Will, nods in agreement at my assessment. "He's not very forgiving. He was instantly irate with me, when he ran into me yesterday, and his eyes were fierce, when we met earlier. He gave new meaning to the saying... If looks could kill. He's extremely intimidating. I clam up as soon as I see him." I gush, almost ranting. Openly, admitting, that it's not just the shock of seeing him that has me catatonic.

"I did warn you, Ana." Will says, compassionately.

"I know you did, and I'll admit, I'm a little hurt, he didn't recognize, or remember me, but... Maybe he did and just hates me." I confess my fears out loud. Hating, that it's even occurred to me at all.

"I don't think that's true, Ana." Will, says softly.

"You never saw the way he looked at me, Will. I've never had anyone look at me with so much hatred before."

"No, Ana. I don't think it's hatred. Both meetings, took him by surprise. He was no doubt angry at you for being hindered. He's not a patient man. It must've been a shock for him too, and..."

"He hates me, I can feel it. Maybe, I should just go home." I mumble, interrupting him.

"No, you can't take this personally, Ana. He needs you, and..." Will, states sharply.

"He does?" I ask. Seeking the reassurance I need, from his conviction that I'm doing the right thing. I know deep down, that it's only disappointment and embarrassment, that's ruling my emotions and responses right now, and obviously, causing my doubts to grow.

"Yes, he does. He's just a hard man to talk to." Will, says with a small smirk.

"Clearly." I utter, smiling down at my borrowed attire. "We're a right pair, aren't we?" Will, nods as he suppresses a chuckle.

"I don't know how to advise you, Ana. It's hard, controlling your emotions and responses in those types of situations. Despite what you two share, I can understand why he intimidates you and causes you to freeze." I nod, in complete agreement. "I've never dealt with him, I've never wanted to. His ruthless reputation, has always been enough of a reason for me to steer clear of him, but these meetings have proven one thing..."

"Which is?" I interrupt, desperate for his insight.

"That this, is going to be harder than I thought," Will mumbles with a concerned frown. "But, we can't give up, you can't give up, because I have some good news," he says with false cheer. Trying to raise my diminished hope as he notices my body slumping. "I have his 24/7 schedule, well, as close as we can get to it anyway. We obviously can't access his full calendar, but he's pretty strict with this routine. Which, can only work in our favor."

I nod in agreement. Then share with him, how I've spent my weekend, researching Christian, and how I intend to invade Grey House, anyway I can. He's not surprised. He had the same idea.

"Tell me everything you found out." I ask, believing in Will, and feeling a little more optimistic.

A few hours later, I'm back in my hotel room. I'm feeling more determined and more myself. I've been going over all the information that Will, and his team have gathered, and even though, there are many positives and negatives to Christian's life and strict routine, this added information tells me nothing new. Nor, does it give me a clear way in. A lot of the newly acquired information that Will, has provided, mirrors the information that I found out myself. Just with more detail. Will, has added structure to Christian's life, and that's the only real positive thing I can use, and ultimately, work in my favor.

Christian Grey, lives to work. He's known for his twelve, even fourteen hour days, spent in his office. Grey House, seems to be his life, his love, his baby. He's the first to arrive and the last to leave. He has a tight, trusted and loyal set of staff. Most of them, have been with him for years. So I can't see any job vacancies becoming available, anytime soon.

Christian, has no real friends, associates, or interests outside of work. He has no real hobbies or pastimes. He does hold a flying license, owns a helicopter, a jet, also a boat, but as I don't know anything about flying or sailing, these attributes of his, won't help me in any way to get close to him.

He seems to be a very physical person. He has a personal trainer, who visits Grey House, at least three times a week. He also runs most mornings to Grey House, or visits the gym, once he arrives. I know I have a good chance of meeting Christian again, while out running, as there are only so many running routes between Grey House, and Escala, so that has to work in my favor.

As I discovered on my own, Christian, has no real social life. He very rarely makes an appearance at any local establishment, but he does own a club. Which he dines at regularly. I chuckle as I read a foot note in Wills, dossier, asking me, if I fancy dinner with him and his wife Rebbecca. I need to tell him as soon as possible if I'd like to go, as there's a two month waiting time for a table. I roll my eyes at that snippet of information, because it proves again just how much Christian, his life, and everything around him is mapped out and set for the future.

The compassionate side of Christian Grey, exceeds far more than what is public knowledge. It's just a pity that his compassion, doesn't stretch to his family as he visits them very rarely. So the information Will has on them, is moot. So, I skim it.

Christian's closest companions, are his Security team. He's very well protected, and is constantly escorted and accompanied everywhere by his team. His head honcho, the guy I met at the coffee shop, is Jason Taylor. Will, looked into him, and apparently, he lives with Christian. He is also married to Christian's housekeeper, so maybe it would be prudent to meet her.

Accidentally.

The only real structure to Christian's life, apart from Grey House, is that he owns a beach house a few miles away. He escapes there, every weekend. This thought excites me as I've never really spent much time at the beach. It occurs to me, and Will, that his security can't be as rigid there as it is at Escala.

I feel a trip to the beach coming on... But then again.

This weekend, and Will is uncertain of how many previous weekends, Christian, had a female guest staying with him. A Miss, Leila Williams. Will, found out a little bit about her, knowing I'd be curious.

Leila Williams, is a 26 year old, pretty, brunette. She's an art student, and shares an apartment with another female, a Miss Katherine Kavanagh, close to the pike market district. Which, coincidentally, is just around the corner from here.

Closing the file in my hands, I kick off my shoes and bring my feet up onto the sofa beside me. I recline against the arms of the sofa and close my eyes. It's only then, that I become aware of how my heart is suddenly pounding.

It doesn't surprise me that Christian, has someone in his life. He's a very handsome man, and despite him being so cold and unapproachable, everyone needs someone to share things with.

To have a life with.

I feel a twinge in my chest from an unknown feeling, and I'd like to take a look at this Leila Williams. I'd like to see the woman that holds Christian Grey's, heart in her hands.

Just out of curiosity...

I, foolishly, tell myself.

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	16. Chapter 16 - Unreachable

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Chapter Sixteen.  
Unreachable.  
 _ **Ana.**_

.

Over the past week, I've tormented myself. I've spent more time at Grey House, than most of the staff who are paid to be there have, and truthfully, more than my own sanity has allowed.

I've joined the gym at Grey House, and even been in contact with Christian's personnel trainer, but it was pointless. I haven't caught a glimpse of Christian using the gym, and Claude Bastille, isn't taking on any new clients right now. Despite, the extortionate hourly rate I offered him. I'm still jogging around Seattle every morning, hoping I'll touch lucky and see Christian, but our paths have never crossed again.

On a positive note, I feel better within myself, due to all the exercise I'm getting. I'd forgotten, how much I love to run, so it's not all bad.

I've spent hours in the Grey House coffee shop. After being remembered for bumping into Christian, I've become quite friendly with the server but even that hasn't amounted to anything. Christian, has never had any sort of regular pattern to popping in, or so she tells me. The day I was unfortunate enough to bump into him, was a rarity in its self.

She told me, that he now requests for his coffee to be sent up.

The Grey House book store has been a true pleasure and taken up a lot of my time. I'm blissed out, browsing and reading in there, and I have to constantly remind myself that it's a re-con visit, and not purely for my own pleasure. I can't help it though. I just get so lost within the pages of the book that I have in my hands at the time, and before I know it, I'm lost in the window seat and a morning has passed. The Chippendale's, could have entered, even performed around me, and I wouldn't have noticed a thing.

Never mind, Christian's passing car.

I've spent time at the music store too. I know Christian plays piano, his bio told me, and I'm sure I've heard him. The feel of the store changes, whenever the dark, tormentingly sad notes begin to float from the private playing room, located at the back of the store.

It has to be him.

Not that I've ever seen anyone coming or going, there must be a back way in, but the staff won't confirm it. I've gotten to know a few of them, as I purchased a new guitar and pop in often. They're friendly enough, but not very forthcoming with information about Christian. No matter how much I try to inquire about the doleful and illusive performer, they're very tight lipped, but I know it's him.

The music, is like the man himself, hard, angry and gut wrenching. They tell me, that the pianist doesn't like to be bothered by anyone when he visits, and have strict instructions to never bother him. I can understand why they remain tight lipped, they're scared of being fired.

It's Friday now, and I've spent time at Grey House, had a quick chat with Will, to catch up and touch base, and whiled away my day. There's nothing new, but Will, did contact Christian's office. After getting passed from pillar to post, he managed to secure himself an appointment. It's regarding something totally bogus, but even so, he still has to wait for nearly a month for his allocated ten minute time slot.

Christian, is most certainly a very busy man.

A total workaholic.

Sad, really.

He's also very elusive. I know where he is and what he's doing. I just can't seem to time things, so that our paths cross again. I feel like I've been trying to reach him for forever, yet, I've only been in Seattle for a short time. It's so frustrating, just waiting. I hate sitting back and hoping for another opportunity to fall into my lap.

I want to march right up to his office and knock on his door, but I know that'll never be a possibility. I've passed by the front of Grey House a few times this week, and despite changing my attire in order to blend in, the burley security guard, still gives me the stink eye whenever he sees me pass by.

I've seen the witch of a receptionist too, popping in and out of the coffee shop. She's never noticed me, though. She looks right through people like they don't exist, and I'm so temped to entertain the patrons again by bumping into her. I considered, for just a fraction of a second, that I could befriend her. Maybe earn her trust and get an appointment or a phone number from her. But no, I couldn't stomach it.

I hoped, that the name and number on the card Jason Taylor gave me would lead somewhere, but it rang straight through to the accounts department of Grey House, and of course, they wouldn't even consider forwarding my call to Mr Taylor. Never mind Christian, or his office.

The only glimmer of hope, is that there are a few social events happening before Will's appointment. One such event, is an honorary dinner for a retiring banker, but Will, isn't very optimistic and doesn't expect Christian to attend. He very rarely does. The other engagement is one that we know for definite Christian will be attending. His mother's charity, is hosting a masquerade Gala.

Will, his wife and their daughter, have all been invited, but their daughter is thankfully, for me anyway, out of town. So there are a few opportunities on the horizon for me to get near him... but here and now, on Friday. I have to take what I can get.

I'm sitting on the beach, just out of sight of Christian's house. I followed his sleek, little sports car here about an hour ago. Well, I tried to. He lost me the second we left the city, but I knew where he was going and soon caught up.  
As I drove passed Christian's house and parked up further down the road. His girlfriend Leila arrived. She drove past me in her little red Audi, looking all windswept and beautiful. Now, my eyes are firmly averted from the house.

I'm pretending to be an ordinary tourist. Just a normal person, enjoying the setting sun, still warm sand, and soft, comforting breeze. I'm trying hard to ignore my shame, anxiety and increasing inner fear. The fear, that comes from being a certified stalker.

Seeing Leila Williams in person, is something I've wanted to do since I found out about her. The photo's that Will's managed to get of her, aren't very clear. They also, never did her any justice.

She's svelte, pretty and appears confident, if the way she strode into Christian's house is any indication, and I'd like to know more about her. I'd like to know more about the woman, that's turned the cold, hard, tyrants head. He can't be all bad, if he has a steady girlfriend.

I'm very dubious about encroaching on Leila, though. I've been fighting the urge to visit where she lives, since finding out about her on Monday, because stalking Christian is one thing, stalking a complete stranger is something else. I don't ever want to upset Christian, or his girlfriend. Or, my own peace of mind for that matter. So, there has to be limits to what I'll allow myself to do.

But what does she have that no one else does?

Curiosity, is a persistent thing. It grows and takes over and the devil is definitely perched on my shoulder at this moment in time. Now, I know exactly where she is. She's safely away from home and the urge is to strong to ignore. She's here with Christian and has no reason to go back to her apartment. The coast is clear. I think I'll take a quick peak at where she lives. Just a quick drive by on my way home. She'll never know.

Plus, this is her time with Christian, and I don't know if I'm ready to see that. I don't really want that image in my head yet. I've not seen them together, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't really fancy watching them frolicking on the beach, taking moonlit strolls or dining on the patio.

I glance around the beach as I pick myself up from the sand and begin to walk back to my car. It's a loverly secluded bit of coast here. There are half a dozen, beautiful houses, arcing around the horse shoe inlet. It's beautiful, private and serene.

I chuckle to myself as I climb back into my car. Making a mental note to look into rentals on the beach, once I'm back at the hotel.

As I'm sure I can spot a Realtors sign, two houses down.  
.

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	17. Chapter 17 - Confused

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Chapter Seventeen.

Confusion.

 _ **Christian.**_

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It's been a hellish week. I've hardly slept, and it seems to have put me on edge. More so, than usual. Sleepless nights are nothing new to me, I've always been plagued with them, but some things off.

I've often dreamt of Ana. She'd be older, prettier, married with kids, and have a husband that loved her, but those dreams, were always few and far between. I knew I'd taken those things away from her, my subconscious knew that too, so nightmares, have always been more common in regard to Ana, but not now.

My nightmares, usually end, when the screaming starts and I wake myself up, but how do you stop them, when there is no screaming and you're not even in bed attempting to sleep? I'm tormented during the daylight hours now. I can't seem to avoid the ghost from my past, even when my eyes are wide open and purposefully averted.

The woman I knocked over whilst out jogging and the girl I bumped into at the coffee shop, both seem to be everywhere. They're both, a clear vision of how Ana could look now, and it's like a black cloud following me around. Every time I think her name, she appears, and I'm haunted by her image.

These women, seem to be everywhere I turn. I've actually dreaded leaving my office, and my apartment, over the past few days. I feel like I'm being overshadowed by Ana's presence everywhere I go, and I don't like it. Not one little bit.

I've tried to alter my routine and take countermeasures. I've altered the times that I visit the Grey House Gym, as I've seen her apparition in there. I've changed my running route as I don't want to see the familiar looking runner again. I'm apprehensive, while pounding the familiar streets of a morning. I'm terrified, that I'll see her around every corner.

Thankfully, I haven't.

I also, haven't entered the coffee shop since last Mondays incident, and I have no intention of ever doing so again. I don't know what possessed me to go in there in the first place, it's not somewhere I usually frequent. The coffee may be excellent, but the ques and patrons tend to annoy me. As the other day proved. Ordering up, is always so much easier and something I will ultimately stick to.

I must admit, I did give in one evening after work to the beauty that haunts me. I spotted Ana's look alike, curled up in the window seat of the Grey House Bookstore. She was totally lost and absorbed in what she was reading, and I couldn't pull myself away.

I received a parking ticket for refusing to move, while I sat at the curb watching her read. She was transfixed, completely still, apart from the fingers that were twiddling her hair and her jaw, that was gnawing her plump bottom lip. The book held her, and she held me, completely, for forty minutes, before she lifted her gaze to the room she was in. I was captivated.

I'm drawn to her strangely, but tormented by her familiarity. They say that everyone has a doppleganger somewhere in the world, but why is my worst nightmare here now? It's as if I've stirred something up by paying my respects. My going up north, was obviously a mistake.

Thank God it's Friday, and I can flee to the retreat that is my beach house. I need to spend some down time with Tess, and work off my frustration with Leila who will be arriving this evening.

She, is another torment I could probably do without, but tonight, I truly do need a long session with her. I need to try and expel all this pent up frustration and uncertainty that's building up within me. Before I explode.

Hopefully, I can maintain my concentration with her, for it to last longer than it did last weekend. I need to tire myself out, I need to be truly exhausted. Maybe then, sleep will come, and with it, some much needed respite from this living torment.

I have a feeling, that I might have a repeat performance of last weekend, especially, with Ana, being so prominent in my thoughts.

As pathetic as it sounds, I need Leila, or someone like her, anyway. Many Submissives, have come and gone over the years. Some, I terminated as they crossed lines and pushed to get closer to me. Most, I've tired of, quickly.

None of them, have held my interest for long, but I don't mind Leila. She respects my rules, abides by them, and has never pushed me too far. Until recently that is, anyway.

Lately, she's growing to be an annoyance. I can see the change in her and know her feelings are altering. She still follows my rules to the letter, but I know her lines are blurring. I was seriously considering, renewing her contract again, but I don't think I can face doing that now.

I don't know how much longer I can bear to be around her. She's always been a reminder of Ana, that was her purpose, but now, it's a more painful one. She's far too familiar, but nowhere near enough.

Her presence soothes and stirs me, and I genuinely need her physically this weekend, but she will never be enough.  
She will never be Ana.

Even more so now, with seeing Ana's true apparition, everywhere I turn.  
.

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	18. Chapter 18 - Allies

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Chapter Eighteen.

Allies.

 _ **Ana.**_

 _ **.**_

Parked opposite, the unfamiliar brownstone building. I can feel my heart racing. My palms are sweaty and I'm nervously chewing a hole in my bottom lip. It dawns on me, sitting here, how this is completely crossing a line. It's utterly pointless, and proves how pathetic I've really become.

I look up, focusing on the illuminated windows on the third floor and consider logically, what I hoped to gain by doing this. I know Leila is out of the way, spending her time with Christian, and I'm eager to know more about her, but why am I sitting here? What insight into her, or Christian, do I now have, because I know what color her curtains are?

The lights on the third floor suddenly go out, and I take that as my cue to head away. I lower my eyes while shaking my head, trying to eradicate the embarrassment I'm feeling. I need to focus on Christian, not waste my time stalking the home of a stranger. Following Christian's every move is bad enough, but at least I've a legitimate reason for doing that. My interest in Leila, is going beyond that and it took me sitting here to realize it.

I take hold of the key in the cars ignition, preparing to head away, but movement in my peripheral causes me to pause and turn back. A familiar looking woman steps out from Leila's building, and I can't help my eyes from widening with excitement and surprise.

It's Leila's roommate, Katherine Kavanagh.

I'm unsure of what to do right now, but subconsciously, I see this as some sort of sign. Before I know what I'm doing, all my shame is forgotten and I'm locking my car door and following Miss Kavanagh down the street. She enters a bar just down the block and takes a high stool at the bar. I watch her, loitering in the doorway as she uses her phone, before attracting the attention of the barman.

I walk over and slide onto the empty barstool beside her. Watching her with growing amusement as she necks her drink with no preamble at all.

"Rough day?" I ask, with a smile as she 'Arrhhs' loudly in satisfaction and slams down her glass.

"You don't know the half of it." she sighs, exasperated. Without even turning to face me.

"Wanna talk about it?" I offer, making a show of making myself comfortable beside her.

"Isn't that usually the bartenders job?" she asks, turning in her seat to look at me.

"He looks kinda busy." I state, and we both glance down the bar at the lone barman who's rushed off his feet. Surprisingly, we share a friendly chuckle at his expense.

"Ana." I say politely, offering her my hand. Eager to make conversation.

"Kate." she replies as she takes it and shakes it firmly.

"Nice to meet you." I say truthfully as she seems genuinely nice.

Her smile towards me is open and reaches her eyes, and she's giving off a friendly enough vibe. I don't really know what I hope to gain by making Kate's acquaintance, but surely, it can't hurt.

"I've never seen you in here before. You local?" she asks, studying me closely.

I shake my head. "Just visiting from the Cascades. I'm staying in a hotel at the moment, but I'm considering making it more permanent."

"You're growing to like the city?" she asks, and I nod in confirmation. Realizing, that I am.

Kate's eyes crease quizzically as she blatantly stares at me for a few minutes. I try to keep my growing nerves in check at her close scrutiny. It's as if she can see right through me and knows I'm not all I seem. It begins to make me feel a little uncomfortable and I can feel myself fidget.

"I might be able to help you, if you're thinking of sticking around," she suddenly says, and my eyes widen curiously as my body sags with relief. "My roommate, maybe moving out in a few weeks. Her room could be available." she explains further, and my heart begins to pound erratically.

"Do you offer rooms to strangers, often?" I ask. Floored by her offer.

"No, not at all," she replies with a chuckle. "But you seem harmless to me and as an intern, I need the rent share asap. Plus, if my brother finds out I have a spare room, he'll no doubt descend and try to wangle free lodgings." she smiles genuinely at me, and I feel awful about deceiving her.

I'm curious as to why Leila could be moving out, so ignoring her offer, and my guilt, and begin to dig.

"Why's your roommate leaving? Don't you get along with her?" I ask. Hoping, I can hide my growing intrigue behind nonchalance.

"No, nothing like that... Boyfriend trouble." she says offhandedly as she turns away from me and lifts her arm to attract the barman once again. My mouth falls open with surprise at her statement.

"Hers or yours?" I ask swiftly, fishing further for information.

"Hers. She thinks he's going to break up with her soon, and plans to head back home once it happens." Kate says simply in explanation.

"Oh, poor girl." I utter compassionately. Genuinely feeling for Leila. Forgetting for a second that it's Christian, doing the breaking up.

Kate chuff's, then roll her eyes. "She knows what she's doing." she mutters, before turning toward the approaching barman and ordering two glasses of white wine. She pays quickly, refusing my offer of a twenty.

"Thanks... Aren't you worried about your friend?" I ask, while accepting my drink from her.

I feel my brow furrow at Kate's dismissive attitude toward her friend. She seems nice and friendly, so why doesn't she care about Leila?

"She isn't really my friend. I may have lived with her for over a year, but I know little about her. We don't have much in common and she's always kept herself to herself." Kate explains, adding a bored shoulder shrug.

"How did you end up rooming with her then? Did you ask her in a bar too?" I ask, taking a sip of my wine and hiding my eagerness behind humor. Kate shakes her head negatively with a wide smile.

"I was picking up my brother, Ethan, from an art class. He was going through one of his arty, farty fazes again, and well, he'd spent the entire lesson attempting to chat her up, but it was pointless. He never stood a chance with her. She had her sights set on someone else, but needed a place to stay. I'd just graduated, moved here from Portland and welcomed the rent share."

"And that, was over a year ago?" I ask. Kate nods her head, confirming.

As I think over her words, it genuinely surprises me that Christian could've been in a relationship with Leila for over a year. If they've been together for so long, how's he kept it hidden from the press all this time? And I wonder what's happened between them now, for Leila to think their relationship is going to end soon.

"So what's happening with her boyfriend?" I can't help ask, trying for a controlled, blase tone. "Why's he going to break up with her?" I add, when Kate remains silent.

"Oh, who knows." Kate says, dismissively. "She grumbles about him a lot, but doesn't like to share too many details about him. I've given up asking." Kate shrugs, clearly not very interested, or fed up with it all. One of the two.  
I finish my drink, thinking over what Kate said. Why wouldn't Leila want to talk about Christian? If he were mine, I'd be shouting it from the roof tops.

If he were mine... Where in the hell did that thought come from?

"Listen, do you wanna grab a bottle, order pizza, and take a look at the place?" Kate suddenly asks, and I freeze in my seat, forgetting all about my wayward thoughts. "I can't hear myself think in here." she adds, rolling her eyes. I glance around, surprised, that the bar has filled up considerably in the past half hour, and become very loud.

"You seem pretty certain the room will become available." I utter loudly, playing for time and gathering my thoughts, as I'm very dubious about going to Leila's home.

Kate shrugs. "Even if it doesn't, we can still share a bottle. It's kinda sad drinking alone on a Friday evening, don't you think?" she states, and I feel awful saying no to her, when I see the hope in her eyes.

"Sure, why not." I agree, as Kate swiftly rises from her seat and attracts the attention of the barman.

.

A few minutes later, I'm crossing the threshold of Kate and Leila's apartment. I feel like I'm overstepping some invisible boundary, but I keep telling myself that I've been invited here, and haven't actually coerced my way in.

I take in my surroundings as Kate heads off towards the kitchen area to grab a couple of glasses and open the bottle. It's a fairly open plan apartment, all exposed walls and miss-matched furniture and I could see myself living here. It's warm and cozy.

I follow Kate's invitation to enter the apartment further and make myself comfortable, by flopping onto her very large, comfy sofa. Falling easily into friendly banter, we sit, eat, drink another couple of glasses of wine, and throw on some random dvd.

"Tell me more about, Leila." I state without thinking, after an hour or so of relaxing. The wine I've consumed has clearly dissolved my filter and I feel my body freeze at my slip, when I register the look on Kate's face.

"She's kinda...I don't remember mentioning her by name." Kate says slowly as she sits upright.

She places her glass on the small table in front of us, before turning to look at me squarely. Her carefree, friendly persona has hardened and she suddenly seems very sober. Not to mention angry. I can't help feeling awkward, and begin to shift beside her nervously.

"How do you know, Leila?" Kate demands. Her voice, hard and expectant.

"I don't, but..." I begin.

"Our meeting at the bar tonight wasn't accidental, was it?" she interrupts me sharply. An accusatory edge to her voice.

Hoping she won't slap me, I shake my head slowly, and contritely.

"I'm so sorry, Kate." I state quickly, when I notice her eyes harden at my admission. "I already knew that Leila lived here with you. When I saw you, I just wanted to meet you, and I..."

"Why? What are you doing here? What do you want with Leila?" Kate's angry voice demands, and I've no idea how to explain myself.

"I want nothing from Leila, I promise. I just... I... I wanted to...I needed to...I couldn't help myself and... I know her boyfriend..." I finish my babble lamely.

"I doubt that," she snaps flippantly, while picking up her glass and draining it. "She hasn't even told me, his name."

"Kate, believe me, I mean no one any harm, especially Leila. I just needed to find out a little bit about her. I was curious and..." I begin to explain, but Kate interrupts me.

"So, you lie to me and..."

"I know it was deceitful and I'm sorry, but I didn't want to approach Leila directly. I just needed to understand her a bit and when I saw you, I... How can you not know her boyfriends name?" I ask. Stunned, when what Kate said previously, registers and finally sinks in.

Kate shrugs and physically relaxes. She refills our wine glasses and leans back into the sofa beside me once again. She takes a swig from her glass before turning on the sofa to look at me. "I'm a little pissed off with you right now Ana," she says firmly. "I kinda like you and thought I could trust you."

"You can, I promise." I interrupt her.

"I don't know if that's true or not, but before I'll even consider talking to you about Leila, I want to know why you're here and who her boyfriend is." she demands, looking at me expectantly.

I nod slowly, realizing I owe Kate something after deceiving her. I can't see any harm in telling her a little bit about myself. I don't think she'd share anything I tell her with Leila. Plus, I kinda like her too.

"I met Leila's boyfriend when I was a child, but I lost touch with him. I came to Seattle looking for him, hoping to reacquaint, but when I got here, I found..."

"You found, that he had a girlfriend." Kate interrupts, finishing my sentence for me. I nod, and Kate looks at me with a growing, booze fueled sympathy.

We hold each others eyes, for what seems like a long time, and something passes between us. I find myself chuckling at the true compassion and empathic expression on her face, and for a stranger no less, and I know in my heart that I can trust her. Drunk or not, she seems really genuine, honest and sisterly.

"What's she like?" I finally give in and ask, causing Kate to tut at me like she's known me for years.

"You really want to hear this?" she questions me with uncertainty, and I nod immediately, unable to contain my interest any longer.

"Leila, herself, is nice enough." Kate begins. "She's always been easy to live with as we hardly ever see each other. Hence, why we've never formed a real bond." my eyebrow lifts quizzically. "We're both busy during the week and she's with... Him, at weekends." she explains.

"Every weekend?" I ask quietly.

Kate pauses as she studies me closely, before nodding slowly. I smile, wide eyed, urging her to continue. Ignoring my sudden despondency. "I don't know what I can tell you about their relationship, Ana. I hardly know anything personal about him." she states, and my eyebrows lift again.

"Leila, has never mentioned him by name, despite my early badgering her for it. By all accounts, he likes to keep things private between them. She's spoken about him though, or rather she's moaned about him, whenever she's had a glass or two of wine." Kate chuckles as she refills our glasses.

Kate, takes in my expression as she fidgets and shifts beside me, and I don't know what my face is showing her, but I'm fascinated. My despondency, at the thought of Christian with someone else, has shifted back to full blown curiosity.  
What on earth, could Leila have to moan about?

Christian, can't be all bad. There must be a part of the boy I knew left in him, surely? If Leila's been with him for some time, she must've seen that part of him. What's changed between them?

"He, would never be my first choice for a boyfriend, anyway." Kate mutters, as she moves the sofa cushions around behind her, trying to make herself more comfortable.

"Why not?" I ask, picturing Christian, and barr his ever present scowl, I can't see any faults with him myself.

"He limits her drinking, so that would be a total deal breaker for me." Kate explains further, before chuckling.

"He doesn't like her drinking?" I exclaim, and Kate shakes her head.

"No, but she does. She likes to kick back, midweek. I think it's her way of privately rebelling against him, after he's pissed her off, but it does loosen her tongue. More than she realizes... If you time it right."

"Wow." I breathe. "Why would he want to control her drinking?" I mutter aloud.

"Oh, that's only the start of it, Ana. I may not know much about him, but I know a lot about their relationship, and it's all kinds of crazy." Kate states knowingly, as she kicks off her heels and curls up on the sofa.

My eyes widen, intrigued. "Make yourself comfy Ana, because from what I understand, there's lots of things that her boyfriend doesn't like her doing."

"Like what?" I ask, far too eagerly and getting just as comfy. Mirroring her position, I hang off her every word as she continues eagerly.

"He's very controlling of her, for starters. Leila, can't see it of course, she thinks she's in love with him but they aren't in love. He certainly isn't any way." Kate scoffs.

"You don't think he loves her?" I ask. My voice, sounding compassionate, but also unintentionally hopeful.

"I, personally, don't even think they have a real relationship. It's certainly not conventional. Leila's blind to the fact that he's just using her for weekend hookups. She's his booty call, and she.."

"You make him sound so cold." I cut in, ignoring the fact that everyone seems to have formed the same opinion of him.

"He is cold, Ana, and their relationship is just as cold. Leila can't look at him or..."

"What?" I exclaim, spluttering wine all over myself. Kate chuckles as she hands me a tissue from the box on the small table in front of us.

"She can't look at him when they're together, she can't touch him either, or speak out of turn." I feel my eyes widening the more she tells me. "The clincher for me, and one of the many reasons why I would personally kick him to the curb, is whenever they have missionary sex, he blindfolds her, and..."

"Wow." I mutter as I tune out, and my brain goes into overdrive.

Why would he blindfold her? Why would he not want to look at her? Why does he have so many restrictions on what she can and can't do? It can't be as bad as Kate's making out. Leila's beautiful, and has been spending time with Christian for over a year, he must feel something for her? Surely.

"Their relationship is beyond weird, if you ask me" Kate continues with a flourish, clearly on a roll. "He has no time for her during the week. They never go anywhere or do anything together. She hasn't even met any of his friends or family."  
Kate, continues to spill Leila's drunken ramblings and my compassion grows for the pair of them.

"I know he's quite affluent and has a beach house, she visits him there, but they've never vacationed together or gone anywhere else. Leila, can't see how he's only using her and she won't listen to me. I've tried telling her, but to no avail, so I've given up trying."

Christian's, self erected walls have become monstrous and un-penetrable. I'm not the only one, who hasn't been unable to get close to him. Despite the fact that Leila spends time with him, he's never let her in by the sounds of things.

I feel so sorry for Leila, but my heart breaks for Christian.

"Help me to get close to him." I exclaim, much to Kate's, and my own surprise.

Kate frowns, "Why on earth would you want to? Haven't you been listening? He's not..." she begins.

"I don't want to become involved with him Kate, I just need..."

"You don't?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow at me, causing me to shake my head firmly.

"It's not what you think, Kate. I.." I attempt to explain, but feel the blush on my cheeks at the quick thought of being involved with Christian.

"Enlighten me then, tell me who he is." she requests, and for some strange reason I do.

Alcohol aside, I feel like I can trust Kate. I feel like she could be a friend, a good friend. So, I place down my glass, look her square in the eye, and share with her how I met Christian. I tell her what happened to us both, what we've both gone through, and while she's remained frozen and mute, I've explained to her what I've done to try and reach Christian, since I found out he was still alive.

Kate, just sits and stares at me, looking more and more gobsmacked the more I share with her.

"Christian... Trevelyan... Grey?" she finally mumbles. I nod with a smile, trying to hide my amusement at her stunned, bug eyed expression.

"Well, fuck me, that explains a lot. He's always been a miserable, angry fucker." Kate states as she begins to shake her head with growing bemusement.

"You've met him?" I exclaim loudly, suddenly hopeful that she can help me.

"I interviewed him a few months back for the college newspaper, and I've seen him briefly at the odd charity event that I've attended with my parents, but I've never really spoken to him." my hope deflates at her off handedness.

"But you've met him, spoken to him. Do you have his number? Maybe you cou..." I begin to ask.

"Ana, it took me seven months of badgering the man before I got a foot in the door, I had to resort to calling my father and asking him for help. That's, how inaccessible and detached this man has made himself...now I know why."

"When you spoke to him, what was he like?" I ask, hoping for her insight.

"I couldn't tell you Ana, our interview was short and not so sweet. He spared me ten minutes in his busy schedule, and I think I only got to ask him four questions, before his next appointment turned up and I was ushered out the door." She frowns at the memory, then chuckles mischievously. "I did ask him if he was gay though, before he slammed his door in my face." she begins laughing at what she's retelling. "It was fun to piss him off." she utters proudly.

Suddenly, she sits upright, looking at me squarely and determinedly. Well, as determined as you can after several glasses of wine and with unfocused eyes.

"I'll help you Ana, you have to meet him. I know it will be near impossible, but we have to try. He's so sad inside, and... Look how he treats Leila." she says, until her voice drifts off and she lolls back into the sofa, looking totally heartbroken.

"What?" I ask, curious to the reason behind her sudden wave of sadness.

"What you've shared with me is such a sad tale Ana, and sheds so much light on the poor, Mr Christian Grey." I hide my giggle, at how Kate's opinion of a tyrant is now that he's a teddy bear. "He's been unable to get close to Leila, and he can't, he'll never be able to, he... We'll try and find out all we can about him and his habits this week, once Leila's home. That's if he hasn't finally put an end to their booty calls and she heads for home. Let's see if we can find a way in and put a smile on his face." she says with conviction.

"Yes, let's." I nod eagerly, feeling my excitement grow with her positivity.

"Oh, it's all very emotional and makes me want to cry." Kate says softly, with glistening, teary eyes. Before hiccuping loudly.

"I think you've had enough to drink." I tell her, giggling. She nods in agreement, prising herself out of the sofa.

"We've both had enough, now it's time for ice cream, and pajamas." she states firmly and waddles off in the direction of the kitchen.

I smile after her, filled with relief. Thankfully, that I was brazen enough to approach her, and grateful that she hasn't kicked my butt. Somehow, I feel stronger, lighter, more optimistic, now that I have Kate in my corner.

With her help, it can only be a matter of time before I get close to him. Surely...

.


	19. Chapter 19 - Friends

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Chapter nineteen.

Friends.

 _ **Ana.**_

.

Spending the weekend with Kate, was a really nice way to pass the time. Despite, having to talk her out of the numerous hair brained schemes that she came up with to try and contact Christian. I think she was trying to keep me mentally pre-occupied so I wouldn't constantly be wondering what Christian and Leila were doing, but it didn't work.

She meant well, but taking out a full page add in her father's newspaper. Planning the kidnapping of Christian's brother and sister, or even offering to break a few of my fingers, so I'd have a legitimate reason to visit the hospital where his mom works, all somehow made sense to Kate. Me, not so much.

Despite finding it hard keeping my faculties together whenever I'm around Christian, I want to tell him who I am personally. When I meet him again, and I know it's only a matter of time before I do, I want to hold his eye and feel at ease around him. I want to be able to explain everything to him without falling apart, or turning to stone at the mere sight of him.

In order to do that, I need to find him less intimidating. I need to grow more confident and stop thinking of him as some sort of unapproachable, constantly angry, larger than life, tyrant. I know deep down that he's not really like that, so Kate, has come up with a plan. She made it seem so easy, but at this moment, sitting where I am, I'm having serious doubts.

The people around him are more accessible and approachable, she's stated adamantly. So that's our plan of attack and new approach. I'm taking steps to reach Christian through those closest to him, and hopefully, when I finally reach him, my spine will hold, my shoulders will be set and my body won't let me down.

I can but hope.

I've frequented the four corners of Grey House a few times this week, but apart from seeing Christian's car entering the underground parking garage a couple of times, I've not seen him. Not in the flesh, anyway.

He hasn't been able to evade me completely though. He's been in the newspapers a lot over the past few days, and his face has appeared numerous times on the TV. He's achieving something big in Japan, apparently, but it baffles me. I won't even attempt to comprehend what he does, or what he's achieved to get where he is. It's overwhelming and awe inspiring just how many businesses and projects he's a part of. Or owns, according to Kate.

She explained to me what he does, and it's astounding, how someone so young could've accomplished so much. It seems like he's dominated the business world so effortlessly. He's been successful in everything that he's set his mind too. He's clearly been passionate, driven and very determined, but as I know first hand, pain can do that to a person.

Christian, has used his anger well.

Over the past few days, I've had time to think over what Kate shared with me in regards to Leila and the relationship she has with Christian, and honestly, I can't make heads or tails of it. There just doesn't seem to be much of a connection between them.

Kate told me, that on Sunday when Leila arrived home, she was quiet and withdrawn. By Monday afternoon, she'd gathered a few of her things together and headed to her parents house for a few days. She said she needed to get away and clear her head. Unfortunately for me that meant Kate, never got a chance to speak to her about Christian before she left.

I'm beyond curious to know if their relationship will end like Leila predicts. It certainly sounds like Christian has no real feelings for his long term girlfriend. He's never allowed her to get close and it's understandable to a certain extent, but it hurts to think that he's never let anyone in physically, never mind emotionally.

It's so frustrating, only having one-sided snippets of their relationship and not really understanding it. Not understanding him because of it, or her for that matter, for putting up with his firm rules and cold behaviour. She deserves more, he deserves more and I just can't fathom out why he wouldn't want to try and be closer to her. She's lovely, and has been in his life for so long. He must care for her, so why hasn't he given her more?

I'd like to think that he loves her deep down but is just unable to express it, but the more I think about it, the haphephobia that he's showing signs of having, indicates that I'm wrong. I really do know how he feels, and it would explain why he coverts his relationship with Leila so much, but it has to stop.

I can twist my head round and round, trying to understand him, her, them, and I have been. It's gotten me nowhere and given me nothing but a headache. So today, I'm trying not to think about it. Today, I'm distracted, preoccupied, optimistic, but growing increasingly more and more nervous as the minutes tick by.

After calling the realtors, whose sign was displayed at the beach. I was able to rent a holiday bungalow that's attached to one of the beach houses just down the way from Christian's. I've had the small, one bed accommodation since Tuesday, and have it for a fortnight. With the option to extend.

I was ecstatic, and checked out of the hotel as soon as I could. I've revelled in my new, temporary home. It's been so nice, having some place to stay that isn't cold and impersonal like a hotel room. I've loved lolling about on the beach and deck, just reading and chilling with my guitar. I've missed playing, and it's so tranquil and peaceful here. I've certainly fallen in love with my surroundings over the past couple of days.

Kate, even popped down for dinner last night. It was nice to get back in the kitchen and cook for her and she's great company. I don't think she wanted to leave and could've easily been swayed to stay with me for a day or two, but she has an urgent deadline at work. This place is pretty spectacular, and boy, Christian is so lucky to have a residence here.

The horseshoe beach is secluded and beautiful during the day, but it's at night that this place really captures my attention. The moon, reflected on the water, casts a steely, cool glow, and it's amazing how easily you can lose yourself in the moonlight and your own thoughts here.

Once I moved my things here, I contacted Will and he swiftly sent me details of Christian's security and routine regarding the beach house. Security, lives in, but only during the week. It seems that Christian likes to be here alone on the weekends. Except for Leila, of course.

Will, also discovered that along with security, the house has a sitter, but apart from a few lights going on and off after dark, I haven't seen either of them yet. There's also a housekeeper, she visits from Escala every Thursday to clean and restock the fridge. So now, here I am, sat in my car, parked outside the local grocery store. Mrs Taylor, Gail, went inside the store about five minutes ago, and I know that it's now or never.

Climbing out of my car, I try and ignore the blacked out SUV that's parked three spaces down. It's the car that Mrs Taylor climbed out of, but I don't think she was driving. If Christian's rigid security extends to his staff then I'm sure there's still someone seated inside, and it's making me very nervous. I force myself to keep my eyes averted as I lock up my car and head across the lot. Trying to look inconspicuous.

Slipping into the grocery store, I take hold of a shopping cart as my eyes automatically scan the aisles closest to me. I spot who I'm looking for instantly in the fairly quiet store. Shaking off my nerves and taking a deep breath, I stride up the aisle parallel to hers. Absentmindedly, grabbing produce on my way.

Accidentally, but with precision timing, I push my shopping cart around the corner of the aisle, knowing full well that Mrs Taylor is ahead of me because I can see her clearly in the round security mirror, high on the wall in front of me. Our carts collide noisily and ricochet off each other, bumping back into us and causing a few of the other shoppers to look at us. I'm surprised, by how loud and violent our collision is and my gasp is uncontrolled and genuine.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." I gush quickly. "I wasn't looking where I was going." I add, feeling my cheeks flame with my blatant lie.

"It was an accident. No one can see around corners, dear." The friendly, middle aged woman says softly.

"Still, I didn't hurt you, did I?" I ask, genuinely concerned. Shamed, for not considering in my crazy plot that I could have actually hurt her.

"No, of course not." she says, with a soft chuckle.

"I'm Ana." I say cheerfully. Feeling a little less guilty, knowing she's not hurt.

"Gail." she replies as she shakes my offered hand.

"Nice to meet you." I say honestly.

"You too, dear." she replies politely, before turning to head away from me with a wide, farewell smile.

"Do you know where they keep the flour? I'm unfamiliar with the layout of this story." I ask quickly, saying the first thing that enters my head to try and keep her with me.

"Sure, I do. Follow me." Gail says cheerfully, and together, we head back down the aisle that she was about to leave.

"You bake?" she asks as we reach the baking products.

"Yes, I love to bake. I love cooking in general." I tell her truthfully, because I do.

Aunt Meg taught me well as I grew. We bonded and grew very close, layering lasagne and making countless batches of cookies.

Walking side by side, Gail, glances in my cart with a quizzical eye as we continue on our way. All I have in my cart are the vegetables that I picked up in passing as I hurried down the first aisle, so I don't know what she's hoping to find.

"I have an amazing recipe for stuffing those peppers." she says kindly. Surprising me.

"You do?" I reply as I glance in her cart. "I have a great recipe for the side of beef you have." I return quickly, and we share a chuckle and continue on with our shopping.

We peruse the aisles together, chatting away and swapping recipes, and an hour easily passes. I almost forget that she's not a genuine friend as she's so nice, open and friendly. We speak freely and easily, without interrogation or any mention of Christian on my part. She shares with me that she loves her job, is married and has a step-daughter that she adores. Her eyes glow with pride whenever she speaks about them, and I feel the love she has for them wash over me with every word she says.

As we hug goodbye outside the store, we swap numbers and make a promise to do lunch sometime soon. I smile and revel internally, happy, that Christian has Gail close at hand. He needs someone like her around him. He needs her compassion and understanding. He needs her calming influence and her motherly persona. He just needs her, full stop.

I don't know what I hoped to gain by meeting Gail today, but I feel like I've accomplished something. I've taken a step closer to Christian and the life he leads. A step closer to understanding him. I've used this time to get to know the woman that's closest to him, because you never know, when just knowing her, could come in handy. Very handy indeed.  
.


	20. Chapter 20 - Peace

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Chapter Twenty.

Peace.

 _ **Christian.**_

.

It's late Thursday afternoon and I'm climbing into my R8. I've squared everything off upstairs and instructed Taylor to head home once he's completed all of his duties. I'm eager to escape my office and the confinement of Grey House. I need to flee my glass tower. I need to find the space to breathe. I need to just get away from here and the responsibility that it carries. It's been a tough week, a productive and very profitable week, but a draining one.

Simply put, I've had enough.

The time I spent last weekend with the body that is Leila, put me on a good footing for what was to come this week. I knew it would be filled with long crazy days. I knew it would pass by in a blur of endless meetings and late night conference calls, and it has. I knew what to expect so I've dealt with it all, but honestly, it's finally caught up with me. The past couple of weeks have finally caught up with me, and I'm tired. Mentally tired.

Being kept so busy, helped to distract me. It's stopped me from constantly thinking about Ana's haunting familiar doppleganger, but it couldn't control my eyes from playing tricks on me. I thought I saw her again today in the book store. I stood watching her form the sidewalk for fifteen minutes, before she turned around and I saw that the girl I'd been staring at for so long, looked nothing like Ana. Just more proof, that I'm mentally fatigued and need this time alone.

I've cleared through most of my schedule and have nothing important left to do in the office before Monday. With everything signed off and under control with the Japan merger, I've decided to head off to my beach house a day early. I need too, it's the only place I've ever felt free from everything. I just wish that The Grace, wasn't at the boat yard being re-sailed this weekend. I could really do with the freedom that the ocean provides right now.

My foot, pushes the gas pedal as the traffic heading out of the city eases. The thought of my second, but true home, in my minds eye urging me forward. I really need the night to myself with no distractions or interruptions. I've a lot of reading to do and I know the tranquillity of the beach house will help me with that.

The sound of the ocean and fabulous panoramic view, have always had a calming effect me. Being there, has always helped to clear my head, and being there with Tess is always a bonus. Hopefully, I'll be able to get some decent sleep, recharge my batteries, and feel a little less run down for Leila's arrival tomorrow evening.

Gail, was at the house earlier today, so I know the place is stocked and ready for the weekend. Sarah, Tess's companion, will no doubt be surprised by my early arrival, but will respect my need to be alone and ultimately spend most of the night in her room, studying.

Tomorrow morning, Sarah, and her live-in security, will both be relieved for the weekend. Sarah, heads back to her parents house and Luke, her SO, heads to Escala to relieve Taylor. I don't need them here at the weekends. I've always felt safe here. Plus, I've never wanted Sarah to meet any of my house guests.

Sarah, is a godsend, and a kind hearted girl. She's twenty, local to Portland, but currently attending college here in the city. She's studying to be a vet and volunteers at the local veterinarian surgery where Tess is registered, and that's how we met two years ago. Up till then, I had permanent security live at the beach house with Tess, and I drove over every chance I could, but it wasn't an ideal situation. For her, or myself.

Sarah told me, while she tended to Tess during her quarterly check up, that her apartment building was due for renovation and how she was struggling to find somewhere local and quiet to rent. Studying, is important to her, so she didn't want to live in dorms or attempt an apartment share with strangers. Far too distracting, she said.

I offered her the perfect solution for both of us.

Sarah, got to live somewhere during the week that was quiet and safe for her to study and I, got a permanent house sitter and loving companion for Tess. She wouldn't except a wage from me, so I waved her rent, utilities, general living expenses, and I also have Gail, keep the place filled with everything she could possibly need. I've also settled all her future college expenses, but that's between me and her parents. It's a fair compromise for both of us. I've always felt reassured leaving Tess with Sarah, and Tess, loves being with her, so the past two years have been a blessing thanks to that girl.

My foot, eases off the gas pedal as I pull up at the beach house. I lower the window while loosening my tie, taking a deep, cleansing breath. The warm, salty air instantly makes me feel calmer and I know in my heart that I'm home, but as I close my eyes and the familiar wave of ease washes over me, it's eradicated swiftly as I'm bombarded with images of Ana.

"Oh, is there no fucking escaping her." I growl with frustration into the empty space around me.

Why has her spirit followed me to the beach? I've never associated what happened that night with my beach house. Up until now, this part of my life has always been presence free. Submissives, yes. Nightmares yes, but I've never been able to feel her here before. So why now? Why can I feel Ana and her aura, like she's sitting here beside me?

It has to be because I'm no longer mentally occupied. I have no guard against her now, no shield of distraction. After only a few hours away from work, she's found her way back into the forefront of my thinking. Well...Fuck this. Not now. Not tonight.

Trying hard to shake her off, I grab my things and head inside. Focusing solely, on the solace that awaits me behind the front door.

After heading inside, showering, and having an early dinner with Sarah on the secluded patio, I spent the rest of the night curled up with Tess, reading. Now, I'm finally ready for bed, and with no preamble I fall heavily into the soft mattress. The night has passed by pleasantly. Tess was thrilled to see me. Sarah was nice company and kept me in the here and now and Ana free, but now, alone in my room, I can feel Ana's sprit encroaching me and filling the darkness around me. I don't relish the thought of a night filled will screaming and little sleep, so with my eyes closed, I focus on the ebbing and crashing sound of the ocean, allowing it to control my breathing and lull me to sleep.

I wake, moments later, only to be surprised by the bright morning sunlight. I feel refreshed, revived, energized, and amazed that I fell asleep so easily last night and have slept in so late. My eyes flutter and linger closed as my brain re-awakens, but then they shoot open as I'm blinded by images from last night.

Vivid, disjointed, snippets of dreams, flash through my minds eye. Clear images of Ana, young and old pass before me, and for some unknown reason, the soft sound of guitar music accompanies the images and lingers in my brain.

Humming to myself, I stretch, contented, despite what my subconscious seems to have been through while I slept. I jump out of bed, relieved and elated that I never woke up and had to suffer through it all. I don't remember being disturbed. Don't remember screaming or waking up once, but now that I am, I'm eager to hit the beach with Tess, and run.

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	21. Chapter 21 - Unbelievable

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Chapter Twenty one.

Unbelievable.

 ** _Ana._**

.

Smiling broadly to myself, I rinse off my breakfast dishes at the kitchen sink. Caught up in the bright morning sunshine and wonderful view, I begin humming along to the song playing on the radio in the background. The mug I'm holding suddenly slips from my fingers, hitting the bottom of the sink with a dull thud as my hands freeze under the warm running water. My smile slips as my eyes widen and my heart rate picks up in excitement at the sight that appears before me.

The eight, luxuriously large homes that hug this arc of coast line, are all roughly fifty feet apart. I'm staying only two houses down from Christian's, and despite the landscaping and added foliage to all the rear of the properties here, my view of the back of his house is clear and unobstructed from this small window

I watch, transfixed as Christian steps out from the patio doors and walks across the deck that extends from the back of his house. Before he reaches the wooden steps that lead onto the sand, he takes hold of the wooden railing that edges off the decking and begins to stretch out his calf and thigh muscles by holding onto his ankle.

I involuntarily hum in appreciation at the sight of him, then feel a little guilty for ogling somebody elses boyfriend. In my defence, he is only wearing running shorts and a tight fitting T-shirt, and boy, he looks mighty fine dressed so casually. He's all taut, rippling chest muscles and powerful looking thighs. How on earth did I miss that body the last time I saw him running? Oh, that's right. I was on my ass, too caught up in the hatred in his eyes to notice his physique. My eyes, continue to rake over him blatantly while he limbers up. My mind wandering along with my gaze.

I really thought he looked good in a sharp, tailored suit, but it doesn't compare to how he looks now. I chuckle to myself at the thought of something Kate suggested last night. She told me to picture Christian naked, in an attempt to find him less intimidating. After this, seeing him, really seeing him for the first time, I don't think that would help me at all. In fact, it's probably one of the worst things I could do.

While continuing to watch him, closely, I subconsciously wonder why he's here. According to his strict routine and schedule, he shouldn't be here untill this evening. Why is he here early? What's changed? Is everything okay? Is Leila here too?

Frankly, I'm to giddy to care. At this moment, he looks happy, well rested and even from this distance, I can see that he has a bright smile on his face. He looks welcoming... and approachable.

Carpe Diem, Ana.

Ignoring the butterflies I can feel swarming deep in my belly and successfully, controlling my rising apprehension, I turn off the still flowing tap before flying into action. Eager to seize the moment, I overlook the fact that I'm still dressed in my sleep shorts and one of my dad's old and threadbare Army T-shirts, and head for the backdoor. Fuck it, he can take me as he finds me.

Stepping out onto the terrace, I see my things from yesterday still on the sun lounger I spent the afternoon on. Taking full advantage, I twist my hair up into a tight bun, pull on my large sun hat to hide my wild bed hair, then put on my shades to conceal my tired eyes. Forgoing shoes, I head straight for the beach. I know I must look a sight, but it's unavoidable. I didn't expect him to be here this early and considering I hardly slept at all last night, it's the best I can do at such short notice.

Knowing that Christian would soon be here, and only a hundred feet away from me, kept me restless. Last night, my sleep was constantly interrupted with dreams of him. I remember waking several times in the early hours, and I was left with the strong urge to trudge through the sand and scale up the side of his house.

I saw myself in a dream climbing through his widow, standing at the side of his bed, just watching him sleeping. I remember waking with a start because even for me, that would be a bit too much. I've stalked him enough as it is. So I did what I do best, and distracted myself in the moonlight with my guitar.

I step onto the warm sand and watch as Christian walks slowly onto the beach. He stops suddenly and turns back, a sad expression on his face. He takes a step forward and lowers himself as if to assist someone down the steps, but I can't see who because of the tall grass reeds that line the beach. Nobody else came out of the house with him, so what's he doing?

Before I have a chance to ponder to hard, he steps backwards and turns again to trudge the beach, but this time he's not alone.

"No...it can't be" I croak.

The tightening of my throat and chest, barely making it possible. I have no control of myself as my legs turn to jelly and give out from under me. My ass hits the soft sand as my eyes blur with heavy tears.

"Tess." I gasp. Taking her in from nose to tail.

I recognize her instantly, even though age has caught up with her and she looks a lot older now. As she tries to keep pace with Christian, I can tell by her gate that she's arthritic in her back legs and struggling to keep up. Even from this distance, I can see how her fur is patchy and missing on her rear end and tail. She's also a lot lighter in the face than I remember.

I can't believe that she survived. I never thought for a second that she had. Will, has never mentioned her in any of his reports and I wonder if he knew and kept it to himself so I could discover this by myself? What ever the reason, I'm overwhelmed with happiness right now at the sight of her. Aunt Meg, will be blown away when she hears that Tess is still alive. I can't believe that she's been safe, happy, and with Christian for all these years.

Lifting my shades and wiping the back of my hand across my eyes, my teary vision clears. Christian, keeps pace with Tess, until they reach a beautiful, wooden gazebo. I noticed that there are a few different structures dotted along the beach, obviously built by the residents for barbequing and large family gathering, but this one, is an ideal place for Tess to rest.

I watch Christian as he pets Tess on the head, before striding towards the water. Tess, settles herself down on the warm sand underneath the gazebo, her head resting on her paws. She watches Christian as he begins his run along the beach. He runs along the tide line, where the sand is firmer, and I'm captivated and amazed by the movement of his body and strong steady pace. It's clear he loves to run by the way his body is pounding the beach. Reluctantly, I drag my eyes away from him and back to Tess. She's watching him avidly, clearly despondent at not being able to follow him.

Picking myself up off the sand, I slowly head over to Tess. Sitting myself down a few feet away from her, I wait for her to pull her eyes away from Christian. She sniffs the air as she turns her head towards me, eyeing me curiously when she sees me.

"Hi Tess, remember me?" I whisper, offering her my hand.

Tess shifts, and stretches her body out untill her nose can reach me. She then surprises me by licking my palm and nuzzling in, obviously saying hello. As she begins to move, I shuffle closer to her meeting her half way. Once I'm beside her, I run my fingers through her coat. Petting her, where her fur is still lush and thick.

Happy, jubilant tears begin to flow unhindered down my cheeks, and I can't stifle my giggle at the unexpected feel of Tess's tongue, lapping at my cheek. My arms wrap around her head and I pull her closer to me, needing the comfort. I'm lost with Tess for a few minutes, just taking in her warmth, her smell and her compassion.

Sadly, the flames from the explosion have scorched her back and tail. He fur is a lot coarser there and absent in a few places on her rump and tail. I feel my tears build again as I think of what she must have gone through. She must have been so scared and in so much pain, just as Christian must also have been.

"I'm so glad Christian kept you with him and looked after you." I whisper into her fur as I hug her tighter.

A dark imposing shadow, suddenly looms over me and I know who it is without having to turn round. My arms, slide from around Tess's neck as I turn warily to face a sweaty, heavily panting, Christian. I look up expectantly, and almost wish I hadn't. He's his usual livid, angry self. He's not the same man who stepped onto the beach fifteen minutes ago. His entire posture has changed.

I gulp nervously, then feel the weight of Tess leaning against me as he glares down at us. Even she can feel his anger and knows we're in trouble. I peak up at him, unsure of what to say to him. I don't know if he's going to blow a gasket if I do, or give himself a heart attack with all his glaring. His face is almost purple. I hide a chuckle at the thought of a naked, purple Christian but he doesn't miss it.

He looks at me briefly with hard enraged eyes, then frowns deeply, no doubt pissed at only seeing his reflection in my large shades. I'm so thankfull for them and my hat right now. I attempt to smile at him when he glances my way again, but his gaze shifts swiftly to Tess. Should I introduce myself? Should I tell him who I am? Gut instinct, says no. Kate advised me to pick my moment. A moment, where he wouldn't explode. I don't think this is it.

"This, is private property," Christian snaps harshly. "Come, Tess" he commands firmly, leaving the shade of the gazebo. He's eager to flee as per, and despite the twinge of hurt I feel, it makes the decision for me to hold my tongue easier.

Tess, instantly obeys. Lifting herself from the sand and heading for Christian. I sigh, hurt and frustrated as I stare at the back of them both heading away. Tess, must hear me because she turns back to me. When she's close, I raise my hand to ruffle the fur on her head. I chuckle softly, as she leans in and nudges my shoulder for more when my fingers pause.

"She like you." Christian states. His voice, expressing his clear surprise. I never realised he'd turned back around and was watching.

"She's a lovely dog." I reply, petting Tess and running my hand along her back all the way to the end of her bare tail.

"She not usually so open to strangers." Christian mutters.

"I'm not a stranger, am I girl?" I whisper, hugging Tess close in goodbye.

"What did you say?" Christian asks, his eyes hardening and his face contorting.

"Nothing, she's a very friendly dog." I utter quickly.

"So it would seem." he mutters, before clicking his fingers to instruct Tess to follow. Which she does.

"Hello, my.." I begin, lifting my hand.

"Enjoy the sun, it's going to be a beautiful day." Christian say awkwardly at the same time as my attempt at an introduction.

He doesn't notice my offered hand as he turns and begins to head for home. His body language screams that he's keen to getaway, and I can hardly blame him. I must look like awful. I haven't brushed my hair, cleaned my teeth, or even took the time to dress properly. No wonder he can't get away from me quick enough.

"I hope you enjoyed your run?" I call after him, lamely attempting to prolong his fleeing.

"I did, now I'd better go and take a shower." he answers, not turning to face me or slowing his pace.

"Nice to have met you." I call after him.

"You too." he mumbles over his shoulder as his pace picks up.

"Bye, Tess." I breath, then chuckle to myself when I see her ear twitch.

I watch Christian as he strides onto his deck and scurries into his house. All the way home I could tell that he was still rigid, still angry. Why does he always respond so hostile when meeting me? Is it me in particular or does everyone he meets get the same response? I understand his pain and heartache. I can understand his way of dealing with it, but truthfully, looking past his initial smile, he looked so tired, so withdrawn. All this anger can't be good for him.

Despite our brief contact being over, I think as first contact goes, with words away, I think it went well. I took my first baby step. I kept my composure and looked him in the eye. Well, sort of. No matter how brief our encounter, no matter how quickly he scarped, he was at least civil to me this time. In a fashion. Maybe there's hope for him, for us, after all, but even if we can never be friends, it was really nice seeing Tess again.

I flop back onto the sand, feeling all giddy inside like a child. I flap my arms and legs about, chuckling, because I know I've made a sand angel. I want to squeal and shriek like a teenager. Who knew, when I woke this morning that I'd meet Christian before mid-day. I knew renting this beach house would be a good idea, but I didn't think it would pay off so soon. I never imagined that it would also bring me knowledge of Tess and her survival.

I pull myself up from the sand and with a final glance toward Christian's house, I sprint as fast as I can to mine, eager to get Aunt Meg on the phone.

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	22. Chapter 22 - Dreaming

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Chapter Twenty Two.

Dreaming.

 _ **Christian.**_

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Today has been dreadful. Being here, was supposed to ease and eradicate any lingering tension within me, but all day long I've been restless. Witnessing Tess, interact with that girl this morning has made me edgy, and kept me on an uneven keel all day.

Tess, is in no way vicious or intimidating, but she's usually very timid and wary around strangers. She always has been. I've never seen Tess respond so quickly to a stranger. Don't get me wrong, she's a friendly dog and even though her coat carries scars of what she went through, she loves to be petted. Strangers, are never usually so keen to do so, though. Why was this girl not put off by the condition of Tess's coat? A lot of people are, and why wasn't Tess cautious of her?

I've felt frustrated, and full of questions about the girl all day. I realized around late afternoon that Leila would be of no use to me tonight. She's not what I need right now, so I've put her off until Saturday.

To distract and remain somewhat sane, I've worked my ass off today. I've been investigating and outlining a few new projects that Ros has put forward for consideration. I need to lose myself, I need to find a new focus, and the more involved and time consuming the better. Anything, to keep myself mentally preoccupied.

After eating dinner and spending time with Tess, the evening has eventually passed. Now, I can finally retire to bed and put a line under today. After sleeping so well last night, I'm hoping for a repeat. I welcome and encourage sleep tonight, I need oblivion, no matter how short lived.

I didn't have to wait long.

As I run down the beach keeping a strong steady pace, I see young Ana, playing in the surf with her pup. I smile, as I approach her, waving. I hear her giggling at Tess, who's yapping and running around her ankles. I approach, sharing their laughter before whistling for Tess.

Young Ana, looks up at me with the beguiling, blue eyes that I remember. Suddenly, her face shatters as she screams and falls to the ground before me. The sand, quickly darkening, turning blood red.

I feel the silent scream I want to release, gripping and twisting my throat as the woman I met earlier on at the beach, comes running towards us. She's still dressed the same and still in her sun hat and shades, but without hesitation, she throws herself over the broken young girl in front of me. I attempt to step forward but my eyes shoot open as she pulls off her hat, and her chestnut hair cascades down her back.

My heart is pounding erratically, my breathing is heavily and laboured and the thin layer of sweat covering my body is uncomfortable. I think over what woke me while it's still fresh in my mind, and even though I'm shaken, I'm more surprised at where my head went tonight.

I always dream of Ana, Tess, that night, in one way or another, but never anything more. Or involving anyone else. Why am I dreaming about the girl from the beach? With her face obscured and hidden, I don't even know for sure what she looks like. Was she even a brunette? Why is she lingering in my subconscious? With her big shades and hat, I don't think I'd recognize her again if I met her.

She made an impression on Tess. Tess responded to her. That has to be the only reason why she's seeped into my unconscious dreams. It's frustrating and something I'll never know for sure, so there's no point fretting over what runs through my fucked up head while I'm asleep.

I'm unsure of what time it is, but it's still dark out. Surprisingly, I make no attempt to move out of bed. As my body calms itself down, I reach for the glass of water I have on my bedside table. After taking a deep, hearty swig, I settle back into bed, hoping sleep with return quickly.

As my eyes close, my ears prick up. They immediately lock onto the faint sound of a strumming guitar. I glance over to the balcony doors and see the curtains fluttering in the breeze. I don't remember leaving the doors open but if I hadn't, then I wouldn't be able to hear the soft, soothing strum. I smile to myself, glad that I did. Strangely drawn and eased by the melody.

It seems somewhat familiar as it seeps into my muddled, sleepy brain, but dawns on me quickly where I've heard it before. I shoot up in bed, intrigued. I've heard similar music before. It was being played in the music store at Grey House. It kept driving me to distraction while I was in the private playing room with my piano.

I remember the tune getting stuck in my head, and later, searching for it, using an app on my phone. The app, could identify any song or piece of music from only hearing a snippet of it. So, while I was alone in my office, and feeling very foolish, I began humming into my phone.

I remember rolling my eyes as the melody was replayed back to me with a title. It was a British artist, a Ben Howard, and the track was called, Hold your head up. I'm positive, it's the same song.

Rolling out of bed, I follow the familiar tune. Tip toeing toward the window. I look out across the beach and spot a female form under the gazebo. It's the girl from earlier today. I'm sure of it. I may not be able to recognise her facially, but there's no denying that those perfect, svelte legs belong to her.

I listen for a minute, just watching her, but it doesn't feel like enough. I need to be closer to her. I head downstairs without a thought, and walk slowly, silently, through the house onto the back deck. Not wanting to get to close to her that I distract her, I sit myself down on the steps that lead onto the beach and just listen to her playing.

She's illuminated suddenly by the moonlight as it clears a passing cloud, enabling me to see her outline more clearly. Her back is to me as she leans against one of the supporting posts. Her foot is lifted behind her, laying flat on the post, enabling her to rest her guitar on her knee. She strums away softly as her hair and short nightdress blow around her in the warm breeze, and my eyes are captivated.

Just like in my dream, she's a brunette. My subconscious obviously saw more than my eyes registered at the time. Irritation runs through me as my eyes strain to see her properly as the moon is shielded once again. They soon close as the music takes over. The melody she's playing, is slower than the recording I now have on my ipod, but her slower, stripped back acoustic version is very good.

My eyes flutter open as the tune comes to an end, and I find myself standing, full of an unfamiliar need to head over to her. My gut twists in disappointment, when I notice she's already gone. Swiftly scanning left and right, I catch sight of her, heading into an annex a little down the way.

My heart and stomach roll simultaneously. I never considered that she lived here or could be staying so close to me. I feel defeated, deflated, but my interest is now piqued. It unnerves me, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Heading back into the house, I chuckle out loud as Tess greets me with tired, curious eyes. Needing to be close to her, I head into the lounge, grab a throw blanket and lay myself down on the couch. Tess climbs up with me, and my eyes close as she settles in beside me. That's, the last thing I remember.

I wake a few hours later, in a similar state as the night before. Doubting, for just a second, that I woke, and even saw the girl on the beach last night. If I hadn't of, then surely, I wouldn't be curled up in the lounge with Tess. I smile as she shifts, sensing that I'm awake and I chuckle out loud as I feel her warm, coarse, wet tongue run up my arm. I'm more than pleasantly surprised to find I wasn't hallucinating last night.

Climbing free from Tess and the couch, I head into the kitchen and switch on the kettle. Standing at the sink, watching the morning sunrise. I realize, that once I fell back asleep, my dreams continued throughout the entire night. They carried the same vein as earlier, involving the girl, but changed dramatically as the night went on. This time, when the girl lost her hat, her shades soon followed, and I was soon staring into the familiar, haunting blue eyes of my long last Ana.

It surprises and confuses me that I never woke up again, and that I feel very calm this morning. How is it, that what I envisioned while sleeping, feels more like a pleasant dream than an actual nightmare? Why did I not wake up, screaming and unhinged, filled with the terror of that night?

Maybe things are settling. Maybe, my painful past is ebbing away once and for all. Maybe, finally, I can be free from all of this. Free from the guilt. Free from the pain and nightmares that that night carries with it.

Oh, who am I fooling. I've only had a couple of nights nightmare free, and it can't possibly continue. I've never been that lucky, but something seems to be changing.

I can feel it.

How on earth, could a girl that I don't even know, change anything? How could a girl, who has slipped into my unconscious mind help ease the pain and torment that I've carried with me for so long?

It's simple. She can't.

It's wishful thinking on my part for even considering it, because she never could...She'd never want too.

My eyes drift to the house where she's staying as that one, uncontrollable, wayward thought, stuns me to the core.

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	23. Chapter 23 - Girls Night

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Chapter Twenty Three.

Girls night.

 _ **Ana.**_

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Last night, I was uneasy and couldn't settle. I read until my eyes dropped heavily of their own accord, but rest, was very short lived. I just couldn't get Christian out of my head. Or Tess, for that matter. My dreams were driving me crazy, so I decided to head out to the gazebo in the early hours and lose myself with my guitar. It always helps to relax me, and I can quickly and easily lose myself and surroundings while playing.

It was working just fine, until I felt his presence all around me. I never saw him, but I'm certain I felt him. I was so lost in my own head and caught up with the music I was playing that it took a while to sink in, but when it did, I got scared about him seeing me, in virtually my underwear and ran back to the safety of my annex.

Now, I'm thinking of running again. I shouldn't be here. Not today.

I don't know if I want to be this close to Christian, while he's spending his time with Leila. No matter how strange their relationship is, I don't want to watch them interacting today. In theory, it seems like nothing seeing him, seeing them together, but in practice I'm not too sure. My growing feelings of apprehension and doubt are becoming to strong to ignore.

Christian, the man, is creeping into me and I can't allow that to happen. He belongs to Leila, and I don't want to hinder her relationship with him or cause any problems for them. I just don't know what to do because it's hard to stay away from him, and only getting harder. I like this baby step approach. I could become his friend first, gradually get to know him. Then, when the time is right, tell him who I am, but that doesn't feel right either, he needs to know about me. It's so confusing with Leila and my own feelings now involved.

It's Saturday now, and Leila arrived at Christians house about an hour ago. There's been no sign of either of them since she entered, and even though I don't want to know, or even consider for too long what they may be doing, I couldn't help but wonder if he took her straight to bed once she was through the door. I wondered if he blindfolded her, enjoyed her body for hours. Then... Stop. Stop. Stop. Not again. It's not my concern what they do.

To distract myself further, I followed Christian's example and went for a run. Several of them.

No matter what my imagination could conjured up, it didn't torment me enough to leave. My growing curiosity won out the longer Leila remained out of sight. It did help to erase all my nerves not seeing her, so I hung around like the stalker I've become. Plus, I desperately wanted to see Tess again.

Thankfully, the weekend passed quickly and it was surprisingly uneventful. I never saw Leila again. She never once left the house. I never saw her walk the beach, sitting on the deck enjoy the sun, or even appear at a window. I only knew she was there because her car never moved until Sunday. Apart from that, I would never have known.

I saw countless glimpses of Christian over the weekend, because he sure loves to run. Leila's company never hindered him with that. I tried to time it right and be on the beach at the same time he would be, but I swear as soon as he saw me he headed back inside as quick as he could. I wish I knew what was going on in that head of his.

As much as I loved knowing Christian was close and enjoyed watching him and Tess, I welcomed their departure on Sunday afternoon. The respite was immediate. Just knowing Leila was with him made me uncomfortable, even if I never saw them together. I did notice that they didn't say goodbye to each other publicly. He left at about 9am and Leila left just after lunch. A buzz cut in a suit and a young woman, turned up late afternoon and I know now from the updated info I have from Will, that the girl is the live-in dog sitter, Sarah, and her house security, Luke.

I decided to continue renting the annex for another few weeks. I enjoy the tranquillity of the beach and it's helped curb my visits to Grey House because the beach holds it's own charm. I've found that it's becoming far to compulsive to spend all my time in Christian's habitat. It's been good for me to vary my routine and to get out and about a bit over the past few days. Plus, I've been trying to get to know Christian's house sitter, for more access to Tess, but she's very allusive.

It's Tuesday now and it's been strange, knowing that Christian's not at home. I keep expecting him to step out onto the deck, so I definitely need to escape the beach for a bit, but I'm unsure, if how I plan on spending my night is such a good idea.

It's almost certifiable.

I'm a bundle of nerves as I'm on my way to Kate and Leila's apartment, and I'm terrified. Kate, called me early this morning, inviting me over tonight with orders to bring wine and plenty of it. I guess 'Operation, Leila' is a go because Kate thinks her and Christian's relationship will be ending sooner rather than later. So time is of the essence. According to Kate.

I also received a call from Will, not long after. He's managed to get me a job interview at Grey House, for this coming Thursday afternoon. A friend of his who works in the building, owed him a favour, so he utilized that and got me a way in. Just getting a foot into the building is appreciated at this point, so no matter what the position offered, I'm going to apply for it. Will, urged me to stay calm and just be myself, but dress to impress. I'm going to use the card Taylor gave me and buy something noticeable. Something to make me stand out.

As I arrive at Kate's apartment, I feel my nerves ease as Kate introduces me to Leila as if she's known me for years. Leila, is already tipsy, so my anxiety dissipates and I blend right in after her friendly welcome.

Up close, Leila is very pretty. She has dark hair, an oval shaped face and beautiful, deep brown eyes. She's petite, well defined, and you can tell easily that she's a regular gym goer. Even though I don't know her, I can tell that she's being overly quiet and is somewhat distracted.

We order Chinese throw on a movie and an hour soon passes. An hour, were Leila is curled up on the couch, eating, drinking and only speaking when directly spoken too. I feel like I'm intruding with her sombre attitude, but Kate assures me not to worry. According to Kate, she's sulking, and this is something she does often after spending time Christian.

Kate, knows her room mate well and keeps her glass topped up. Once the wine we're sharing seeps into her bloodstream, and mine, Leila begins to open up. Once she's relaxed and her tongue has loosened, we couldn't keep her quiet.  
Which wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Kate, steered our conversation to sex. Playfully and shamelessly, regaling us with tails from her youth, and Leila, soon jumped in. Apparently, she likes it rough and a bit kinky, she's also had quite a few men in her life. Who would have thought?

Some of the things she shared with us about what that she likes to do, and have done to her, will undoubtedly stay with me forever, and not in a good way. She's careful, despite her inebriated state, mentioning no names, or gives too much away, while she divulges information about her sex life and grumbles about the man that's in it. The man, who she's fallen in love with, but knows, will never love her back.

"My man, does like a bit of variety." Leila brags, smiling serenely with glazed eyes. I can't help but cringe at the mental images her words from earlier have portrayed in my head. "He isn't dark enough for me though," she says off-handedly. Her words should shock me, but I think her sudden blasé attitude is just for show, and her own self preservation and protection. "It's probably for the best that this ends now." Leila mutters, suddenly sounding very despondent.

The alcohol she's consumed is clearly messing with her emotions, and she's no doubt trying hard to prepare herself for what she knows is coming. It must be so hard being unable to confide in anyone. Christian doesn't like her talking about them, so what can she do? I smile compassionately as her eye catches mine, because I really do sympathise and feel for her.

No woman should be made to feel like this. No woman should carry this amount of worry for her man. No matter what problems people carry with them, no matter what people have to go through, there should always be honest communication and flexibility within a relationship.

Listening to Leila over the past hour or two has proven that there's nothing even resembling that in there relationship. There seems to be a lot of rules and restrictions laid down by Christian, and no room for flexibility once again, Christian's decision. Leila, doesn't have a chance, and I seriously want to kick Christian's ass right now for treating her like this.

"You really do love him, don't you?" I ask. Myself, now unhindered by wine. She nods quickly and Kate lifts her eyebrow at me in warning as she sees my watery eyes and the compassionate look on my face.

"What's not to love." Leila says with a soft sigh, and I hear Kates chuff of contempt.

Kate, rolls her eyes at her comment as she refills our wine glasses, but Leila is oblivious. Knowing, who Leila is spending time with is hard for Kate to keep to herself. Since I told her who it is, she's had time to reflect on their relationship, and with what she knows through Leila, she's convinced that Leila's not nearly in love as she's made out.

She believes, that Leila has put up with their relationship for as long as she has because of Christian's power and wealth. She recalls all the things that Leila's said in the beginning about trying to get more from him emotionally, and the many things that Christian has bought her over the past year or so to compensate for being unable to do that. Kate, also remembers all the times she's used that to accquire more from him.

Leila's told Kate things that I'm not sure she's aware of, and things I will never know or understand. As tonight has proven, Leila can't hold her tongue once alcohol is involved. It's left a bitter taste in Kate's mouth as she never realized Leila was so shallow. Her opinion of her is probably right, but Leila seems so besotted and genuinely hurt to me, but Kate knows her better than I do, I suppose. And I have been drinking.

"Is he good to you?" I utter softly, barely able to hide my burning curiosity.

I don't need, or really want to know, about her and Christian's sex life. I want to know about the man I can't get close too. The man, the boy has become. The man I want to get to know, the man that she knows.

I feel Kate's eyes on me once again, so I pick up my glass and hold my tongue. It's weird, being this close to Christian's girlfriend. Leila, seems really nice and I genuinely like her. I should feel guilty being here, knowing that I'm lying to her and prying into her business, but I don't. The alcohol, certainly helps with that.

No matter how crazy and overstepping the mark this is, I feel like I need to be here. I need to be near her, to know her, to ultimately and selfishly, understand Christian more, but do I want to know this side of him? He's breaking her heart.

"He gives me everything I ask for," she says with a shoulder shrug. "I'd have a good life with him." Leila continues confidently in reply to my prying. Her eyes begin to glow and I catch a glimpse of the materialistic side of her that Kate has spoken about.

"How so?" Kate pipes up to egg her on. Even though she knows damn well what type of life Christian Grey could give her. I think she's trying to trip her up.

Kate was awed, for a split second, when I revealed Christian's name to her. Then suddenly, very protective of him, once she realized what he went through in his youth. What he is still going through as a man.

"I've told you before Kate, my boyfriend is a very successful business man. He lives a rich and lavish lifestyle, so would I." Leila states salaciously, and Kate nods knowingly.

"Is that enough though?" I question out loud.

"For now, yes. I know he likes me and he could grow to love me." Leila says, suddenly sounding hopefully. I nod compassionately, my drunken support for her rising. Kate tuts loudly and both our eyes turn to her.

"Oh, come on lee." Kate snaps, clearly having had enough of the pretence. "When are you going to wake up and smell the coffee? You've been with this man for over a year now and nothing has changed. How can you believe you love him and how can he grow to love you, when he never spends any real time with you or takes you anywhere? He may buy you everything you heart desires and fucks you into next week, but it all means nothing if you can't touch him?" Kate snipes. Her anger and frustration getting the better of her. Leila instantly looks defensive.

"Why is he so restrictive and controlling with you, Leila?" I interrupt, asking the question that's been driving me crazy and trying to defuse the growing animosity that's building around me.

Leila sighs heavily as she looks at us both, clearly resigned and agitated. "Everything you've said is true Kate, but it's complicated. You know I can't talk about him with you, he wouldn't like me to, but you're wrong about so many things, Kate."

"I doubt that." Kate snaps.

"I may not be able to touch him but that doesn't mean we can't be close. I can't speak freely but that doesn't mean we can't converse and share things. He's very busy Kate, only his weekends are available to me, I accept that and his gifts are his way of saying sorry." Kate rolls her eyes at the reasoning she's probably heard many times before, but I'm all ears. "I know you think our relationship is odd Kate, and I've always been grateful for you support, but you don't understand him at all. You don't understand our relationship at all..."

"Neither do you. All your relationship is, is sex, Leila. When are you going to see that?" Kate utters, clearly frustrated.

"I understand him better than you think, Kate." Leila says sharply to defend herself.

"He blindfolds you Leila, he doesn't even want to look at you when he's screwing you." Kate says harshly, throwing a low blow and we both see Leila cringe.

"That's so I don't look at him and see..." Leila snaps back reflexively, before catching herself.

"What? What doesn't he want you to see, Leila?" Kate throws back quickly, baiting her, using her agitation against her.

I know what Kate's doing. Even though she has my story behind her and I've told her what I think Christian carries with him from that fateful night we shared. Having actual confirmation from Leila, will certainly back up my story and reaffirm her belief in helping me. Helping a stranger that she's only just met. Leila she's known for a long time, and she's trying to help me get close to her boyfriend.

"He has burns on his skin Kate, and he's scared that I'll see them and turn away from him. Now drop it." Leila snaps. Sounding very pissed and regretful at being unable to control her temper and revealing too much.

Kate and I share a look, and I see the brief flash of awe in confirmation that everything I told her was true, flash across her eyes. Not that there was every any real doubt, I don't think, but like me, he has a reminder of that night. I absentmindedly, rub my hand over the indentation on my chest, as Kate smiles knowingly. Leila continues, oblivious to our shared moment.

"How did he get them?" Kate asks quietly.

Leila sighs heavily. She's lived with Kate long enough to know that she wont give up on this. I've only known her for a short time and she is one of the most adamant people I've ever met. Leila has no chance of keeping this to herself now.  
"My boyfriend, he carries scars on his body. From what I know, he was involved in a car accident when he was young, but he never talks about it. I've never seen his body properly, he's always clothed, but it's true, when we're together, he likes me to keep my eyes averted or he will cover them," I catch Leila's eye and I see her frustration.

What it must be like to be with someone as built as Christian, and not be able to touch him. To not be able to run you nails down those washboard abs, and... I shake my head to clear the vision I've conjured up as Leila continues.

"It's quiet erotic, not being able to see what he's doing. I trust him, he's a very considerate lover." Leila explains.

"Lee," Kate says, sounding exasperated. "There has to be more than just sex in a relationship. When, are you going to realise that?" Kate asks, shaking her head.

"The sex, is obviously important to him Kate, he's a man, but it's not vital, and I know there'll be more between us once I tell him how I feel, and I'm going to tell him." Leila talks quickly trying to justify, but I see Kate shake her head in my peripheral. "Things will change once I'm honest with him. He'll see that we..." her voice is rising the more she talks, and her reply is rushed. She's trying to be convincing but it's not working.

"Leila, don't do that to yourself, please," Kate says softly. "Your boyfriend, he really doesn't feel the same way you do, you have to face that." Kate says firmly, her voice holding no anger at all now. "Think about what you have with him, how he treats you, what you share with him, and be honest with yourself, Leila. Will it change once he knows you love him?" she says softly. Like the friend she's become over the time they've lived together.

Leila sighs heavily as her eyes begin to water. She picks up her wine glass and drains it quickly. Not looking at either of us. My heart bleeds for her, because she really has fallen for him. It doesn't matter in what shape or form, it must hurt her so much not being able to be herself and just talk and touch him freely.

Knowing Christian's history like I do, I can understand why he does all of this now, and whether Leila realizes it or not, she doesn't stand a chance of breaking down his walls. They're six feet thick and all she has in her arsenal is a toffee hammer.

I sit back and let my mind wander leaving Kate to it, and her calling is clear. She is definitely a born journalist. Within a span of Ten minutes, Kate has asked Leila a series of questions that have her doubting everything she knows. Having forced her to think about everything closely she now knows it's going to end, and her confession will do her no good at all.

My ears prick up when I hear Leila mention this past weekend at the beach house. My curiosity is piqued and I listen closely. I really want to know where she was and why she never left the house at all.

"...but he doesn't really sleep Kate, that has to hinder and effect him." Leila states, and I'm curious as to what I've missed. "Even this weekend he was agitated and more withdrawn than normal. He only slept with me on arrival and then we hardly spent anytime together. Apart from sharing our meals, I never really saw him. He was either out running or hidden away in his office. I just busied myself in my room." Leila finishes, her voice quiet and melancholy.

"That, right there, should tell you all you need to know about how your boyfriend really feels about you, Leila. He hadn't seen you in a week but was tired of you after only an hour. You shouldn't waste anymore time on him." Kate says, and I bite my lip to hide my chuckle as I hear a slight slur to her voice. "You'll never get close to him." she states knowingly.

Leila shakes her head and frowns as she curses under her breath. She's clearly annoyed and the wine is aiding her frustration. "I might have a chance of getting near him if I wore a fur coat." Leila mutters and Kate and I both look at her questioningly.

She rolls her eyes, placing her wine glass down before standing. "The only thing that gets close to him, who he lets get close to him, is that bloody dog of his. He spends so much time with that manky mutt it's ridiculous, he even talks to the thing. How can you love a fucking dog?" Leila mutters, and without waiting for an answer she wishes us both a goodnight and walks, slightly jelly legged, out of the room to bed.

Kate and I, share a look as the excitement in us both begins to grow. We hold it together until we hear Leila's bedroom door shut, then laughter overtakes us both.  
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	24. Chapter 24 - Confessions

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Chapter Twenty Four.

Confessions.

 _ **Christian.**_

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As I step onto the crowded elevator, I bite out a curse at the people I have to share space with. I have no one to blame but myself for being forced to do this. It's by my own hand, literally, that I'm stuck in here, riding this suffocating sweat box with all these strangers while mine is under repair.

Rubbing my fist with my palm, I can still feel the sting of pain where my knuckles are bruised. Punching the control panel in mine yesterday, probably wasn't a good idea, but the rage and frustration had built up within me and I needed to vent. I thought I saw the girl from my dreams heading into the bookstore as my car entered the garage, but after instructing Taylor to circle the block so I could have another look, I found it wasn't her and it brought me to boiling point.

I'm hardly surprised that I'm seeing things. I haven't been able to sleep properly since leaving the beach house on Sunday. I just can't get my mind and body back in sync, or get the flashbacks of a grown up Ana, and the tune that now seems to accompany her, out of my head. It's so fucking tiring. I have this strange urge to go back to the beach but I really need to be in the city right now. I feel so torn. Constantly.

While I ponder, the elevator doors slide open to reveal the human resources floor, it surprises me because I didn't even realize we were moving. The floor is awash with candidates for the positions available in the accounts departments and I can't help but sigh, exasperated. I scan the sea of clones, all seated side by side filling in the standard NDA's and employment forms. They're all adorned in power suits, and whether they are male or female, they all have one thing in common. Cold, hungry, eyes.

As the doors begin to slide shut, a girl stands and heads over to the reception desk with her completed forms. I see a brunette head, a flash of vivid, blood red, and I'm swamped with memories and engulfed with a sickening feeling. My heart pounds erratically as my throat beings to tighten, and I know I'm now holding my breath.

As the doors close and my vision is obscured, I can finally let go of the painful breath that's been trapped in my lungs. I notice Taylor sly eying me, but he holds his tongue as I try and pull myself together in this confined box.

As soon as the doors open on my floor, my feet begin to move. I stride purposefully towards my office, ignoring Andrea, who stands and prepares to follow me. I turn to face Taylor as I reach my office, not surprised in the least that he's still on my heels.

"Get rid of her." I growl, the vibration scraping the back of my dry throat.

"Who? Sir." Taylor asks, sounding slightly bemused.

"The interviewee. The girl in the red shirt." I snap, my voice sounding as if it should be obvious.

"Why?" he uncharacteristically questions, and my eyes and demeanour harden at his defiance and having to explain myself.

What the fuck can I tell him?

"It doesn't fucking matter why, just do it. Do it now." I yell, before slamming my office door in his face.

Before I've even reached my desk, there's a timid knock on the solid wooden door behind me. "Not now, Andrea." I bark out in frustration, but ease, when I hear her retreating heels on the marble floor as she scurries back to her desk.

I reach mine, fall heavily into my office chair and lay my forehead on the cool thick glass. "There's just no fucking escaping that night." I mumble, my breath frosting the glass and warming my cheek. My eyes close as I let my body and mind rest.

Just when I thought a reprieve was in sight. Just when I thought there was a glimmer of hope of escape, it hits me, and it hits me hard. I knew the Ana of my dreams was just that, a dream. The Ana I deserve and have to live with is the painful reminder that's haunting me everywhere I turn. If I'm starting to actually see her in the sanctuary of my building, then I know I'm truly and utterly fucked.

"There will never be any escaping her... Fuck." I curse as I lift my head.

Every corner of this building is already under the shadow of Ana and her tormenting clones. Now, she's seeping her way in further. She's climbing the floors one by one. There seems to be no reprieve at all from her or what I did. It's as if she won't stop, as if she won't be satisfied, until I'm standing precariously on the roof.

I rise to my feet and head into my private bathroom, eager to clear my head. Filling the sink with water I swill my face before leaning heavily on the counter top. I feel my body begin to calm, but the sheen of sweat I can still feel lingering on my face and neck is grating. I rinse again before looking up and homing in on my refection. I don't know what I expected to see, but the dull, tired eyes and frustration etched deep into my skin is hardly surprising.

"Pull yourself together, Grey." I snarl to myself, before drying off and heading back into my office.

Sitting at my desk, I open up my email and mentally jump right in. I'm prepared to lose myself, forget and distract, but it's futile and the numbers are soon swimming. I just can't concentrate. I'm annoyed and riled with myself for letting her forever lingering presence torment me, but what the fuck am I supposed to do? I can't run from my own head.

I push myself away from my desk before standing. My chair, sliding and hitting the glass wall violently behind me, but I pay it no mind as I storm towards the door. Pulling it open, I continue my determined march straight towards the elevators. Andrea jumps to her feet as I pass her but I don't pause to meet her wide, questioning eyes.

"Inform Taylor, to meet me at home once he's caught up with everything." I say sharply, without even looking her way.

"Yes, Sir." Is all she is smart enough to murmur.

"Oh, for fucks sake."

Leaves my lips as I catch sight of the, 'Out Of Order' sign hanging on my elevator door. I have no desire to use one of the public elevators again, so I head straight for the stairs.

Heading through reception, I march directly onto the street and luckily, manage to grab a passing cab. Taylor, will curse me to high heaven for not waiting for him or at least driving myself, but I'm far too preoccupied to drive and far too impatient to wait. I can't linger in my building. I can't risk seeing the painful vision in red again.

Sitting in the back of the cab, I stretch out my legs as best I can, hoping to soothe and ease the burning in my calf muscles from the stairs I've just descended. The physical exercise has done me some good, so I use the fatigue to close my eyes and attempt to switch off.

Despite the mid-morning traffic, I'm soon home and only when I enter Escala, do I feel like I'm free of the shadow that's constantly clouding me. I can finally breathe.

Striding into the kitchen, I snap the word 'Coffee' as Gail's eyes meet mine. She's clearly surprised by my arrival and soon showing her concern. I can't help but notice how she looks past me, seeking out Taylor, before switching on the coffee machine.

Brushing past her, I take a seat at the breakfast bar, rest my head on my crossed arms, and try to ignore her as she begins to hover around me. I can feel her curiosity, her growing concern, her never waning compassion for me, and it only brings my mood down further.

"Sir, is everything okay?" Gail enquirers gently, but I can't find my voice to answer her. "Is Jason not with you?" she adds, when I make no attempt to reply.

"He's on his way." I mutter as I right myself in my chair.

I look up as Gail places a cup of coffee in front of me. "Thank you." I say with a grateful, heavy sigh. Fuck, I need this warmth and caffeine hit. I feel so drained and lethargic, yet the day has only just begun.

"You're very welcome, Sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asks politely, but looks at me quizzically for just a tad too long.

"No. Nothing can be done." I mumble, before breaking eye contact with her and picking up my cup.

"Sir. What's troubling you? Maybe I can help." Gail asks gently, as the silence grows between us. I can feel her trepidation for speaking out of turn, but strangely, I welcome it.

"I'm just so tired, Gail." I confess, feeling the weight of my own words and not caring that I'm letting my guard down.

"Go, get some rest." she suggests with a smile.

"I wish it was that simple, but I can't find rest...There's never any respite or reprieve from it." I mutter, sounding defeated and sullen.

"Your dreams?" Gail whispers. Mentioning the unmentionable. I attempt a simple shrug in confirmation, but Gail wants more and pats my hand comfortingly until I meet her eye. "What else is bothering you? Sir." she asks, and my brow rises at her intuition. She smiles encouragingly at me and the words are out of my mouth before I can restrain them.

"There's a girl..." Is all I'm able to say before her eyes widen in clear excitement.

Ignoring her reaction, and my resistance, I reveal all before I can stop myself. "This girl...she's hounding me. I keep seeing her everywhere I go. I think it's the same girl but I can't be sure. We've met while running, I've spilt a drink on her, and she seems to haunt every corner of Grey House. Even today, she..."

"Have you spoken to her?" Gail interrupts me as she sits down opposite me, making herself comfortable.

I shake my head as I think back to the numerous, painful encounters I've had since stirring up this hornets nest. The anniversary of the accident seems like a life time ago, now. It's been totally overshadowed by the intensified pain I've felt ever since.

"There was also a girl at the beach this weekend...she was petting Tess." I add, pausing for effect, enjoying the sudden bewilderment growing on Gail's face.

"Tess, accepted her?" Gail asks, knowing Tess's fickle attitude towards strangers. Her smile grows as I nod to confirm.

Suddenly, Gail frowns. "You scalded the poor girl?" Gail exclaims as what I mentioned to her earlier sinks in. I shake my head as my eyes roll.

"I did, but that's not important right know. She's driving me crazy, Gail. I see her everywhere I turn, and I can't get her out of my head long enough to think clearly. She..."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing, Sir." Gail eases. "If you like her, then your obviously going to think about her. You shouldn't be afraid of approaching her, or..."

"There's more to it than that, Gail." I mutter, putting a stop to her enthusiastic rampage.

"How so?" she asks. "Tell me." she urges, after a few minutes of silence.

Where do I start with all of this? She'll think I'm crazy, once I tell her in detail about the encounters I've had over the past few weeks. How do I explain how they've lingered and effected me...without revealing my darkest secret?

I don't think I can.

"Start at the beginning." Gail utters gently, as if she understands and knows what's running through my head right now. Her canniness is strangely comforting, but I'm still reluctant to divulge too much.

"Every since the anniversary of the accident, I've seen her everywhere. As I said earlier, I can't be certain it's the same girl every time, but...whenever I see her, or think I see her, I'm overwhelmed with everything from the night of the crash. The night I lost my father comes flooding back like a tidal wave and it floors me...but ever since I spoke to the girl at the beach, my dreams have changed and I..."

"Forgive me, Sir." Gail interrupts my unhindered ramblings. "But, I don't understand. How can meeting a girl, bring back the pain of losing your father?"

I stare at her, unsure of how to explain about Ana, without actually revealing what I did that fateful night. I come up with nothing. There's no other way. I have to tell her. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Mr Grey." Gail encourages, her voice no more than a whisper. It sooths me to the bone.

I have to do this. I have to be honest with her. It'll help me, I'm sure of it. Even though this situation feels uncomfortable, the thought of talking to Gail about this actually feels right. I know I can trust Gail with my entire shameful past. Her whole persona is open, trustworthy, motherly, and John, is still of fucking vacation.

I've kept this secret to myself for years and it's gotten me nowhere. I need to talk about this and get it off my chest once and for all. I've held onto it for so long that it's more than just a part of me now, it controls me, and I'm sick of it. Taking a deep breath and looking her square in the eye, I do something I have never done before and openly bear my soul.

"Something happened that night... the night my father died." I begin quietly. "The driver of the car we hit and my father, weren't the only fatalities that night...somebody else died and nobody knows." my voice is low and pained and I can't help but pause as I think over what I'm about to share with her.

Gail's eyes widen curiously, and I can see the intrigue behind her initial shock. I swig off the rest of my coffee, allowing the action and the heat to ease the growing doubts I have. I lock my eyes onto Gail's once again as I open my mouth, and for the next fifteen minutes they don't leave hers.

I tell her everything.

I watch the shock, the horror, the pain and devastation she feels cross her face as my story unfolds, with all the gory details. By the time I've told her all about the accident and how I met, then killed, a beautiful child, her eyes are weeping and her face is filled with sorrow.

"The girl I see, the girl that's torturing me everywhere I go, is how I imagine the girl I killed would look...if, she'd of had the chance to reach adulthood." I explain as Gail dabs at her eyes with the handkerchief I pass to her. "I killed her Gail, and ever since I visited the crash site I've seen her everywhere I turn. I awoke something within myself that's growing stronger by the day and I don't know if I can live with her ghost any longer. It's..."

"It was an accident, Mr Grey." Gail interrupts, despite her sniffling. "You where a young boy and did your best in a traumatic situation to help her. You can't be held..."

"She died by my hand, Gail." I interrupt, sharply. "I killed her, whether it was an accident or not. A child lost her life because of me and I've never told anyone. Not my mother or my siblings, not even John. It's like she never existed. I can't escape the pain of that, or her. I don't deserve too." my voice has weakened and my eyes have left Gail's by the time I've finished my rant.

The room is suddenly very uncomfortable, and eerily silent.

Gail, doesn't say a word as she stands and composes herself. She turns on her heel as she blows her nose and I think she's going to leave, utterly disgusted with me, but she surprises me by heading back over to the coffee machine. I hold my tongue and watch her every move as she makes more coffee. For two, his time.

What is she thinking? What does she think of me, now that she knows I'm a murderer? Will she share my secret with Taylor? Will they both leave? God, I hope not. I'd be lost without them both. I hang on tenterhooks while Gail completes her task. After what feels like an age, Gail sits back down in front of me, pushing a cup my way. I'm very wary to look at her, but when I do, her face is now free of tears and she's smiling softly at me. I return her smile. Relieved that she's still here.

"What was her name?" she asks. Her eyes, kind and understanding.

"Ana." I breathe. My voice full of my relief.

"Ana?" Gail questions me with a small quirk of her eyebrow. I simply nod. "What do these girls you're seeing, look like?" she asks, her smile widening as she studies me closely.

I sit in front of her, mirroring her smile and suddenly feel so much lighter. Relieved by my confession and by her curiosity. It's as if just sharing this with her has eased the pressure that was building within me and released the weight I've been burdened with for so long. I never wanted to share this, never wanted to admit to anybody what I did to another human being, but it feels good to have confessed. Gail is still sat here, wanting to hear more. She shows no outward signs of hatred towards me, no disappointment in me.

Nothing.

The relief is immense.

"The girl I knocked to the ground while out running, and the girl that I met at the beach with Tess, were both facially hidden." I continue on eagerly, pausing, only when I notice Gail's confused frown. "They both wore hats and shades." I quickly explain. "So, obviously, I haven't seen them clearly, but the girl I barged into at the coffee shop and the girl I ran home from today, well, she's beautiful, just like I imagine Ana would be. Her hair is dark, her eyes are blue, and she has the most beautiful flush to her skin when..."

I glance up at Gail, who's eyes are sparkling and drilling into mine. She's trying to hide a very wide, excited, grin behind her coffee cup, but it's not working. I continue on with an embarrassed smile as I look back down at my own cup. Which I'm now cradling protectively in my hands. Ignoring Gail's giddy, female enthusiasm, I open up about my visions and feelings for my long lost, Ana.

"She looks different every time in a way, but the terrifying thing is, I'm seeing her in other people now. It doesn't matter if it's only a glimpse, or if I cross paths with her briefly, I feel her. It's strange but I do. I see her, and everything from that night hits me, the pain, the regret, the guilt. What I did to her hurts so much, but... In my dreams she's different. Our situation is different. I can't explain it, my dreams are so disjointed and I find it hard to remember the exact details, but I know it's Ana." I lift my eyes from my cup and search out Gail's. "There's no pain accompanying them, Gail."

She smiles up at me, her face full of delight and excitement. She's such a compassionate woman. "How have these girls reacted to your brief encounters?" she asks me. Her face, now showing something more than just interest and general curiosity.

I chuckle, then sigh deeply and exasperated, thinking of the girl I left stunned on the ground, the one covered in hot chocolate. Not to mention the girl I was rude and abrupt with on the beach, and today, the unfortunate one I fired before she even had a chance to obtain steady employment.

"They've all had a varying degree of the same response, they freeze, but it's hardly surprising. I get very angry and defensive during these encounters, so I don't help the situation at all." I hear Gail chuckle softly and offer her a one shoulder shrug in my defense. "The girl must hate me." I mutter out loud.

"I doubt that, Sir. But next time you see her, talk to her." Gail states firmly, and I shake my head at the mere thought. "She might...still be at Grey House." Gail adds, sounding hopeful.

"She would have vacated the building by now...that's, what Taylor has been dealing with." I admit to her, feeling a little ashamed of myself.

"Why did you send her away? It could have been the perfect opportunity to talk to her." Gail states, and it almost sounds like she's scolding me.

"Gail, have you not listened to a word I've said? I can't think straight when she's close." I reminder her sharply.

"You can't think straight while you're apart." she retorts just as quick, and I can't help but share her uncontrolled, embarrassed chuckle.

"That maybe true, and I admit that I do act irrationally whenever I've seen her, but it's instinctual. It can't be helped. Seeing her, is so painful that it can bring me to my knees. Literally. I lose all rhyme and reason at the mere sight of her. My first instinct is to distance myself from it. From her. I don't think I can be around her and not be floored, Gail. It's uncontrollable."

Gail smiles up at me sympathetically, but then her eyes harden and gleam. "You've never had a problem controlling anything before, Sir." she states, far too smugly. Clearly pleased with herself for pointing out who I am at my core. My true self. My eyes involuntarily roll at her comment.

"Maybe now that we've spoken, you could try. Face the fact and embrace the idea that the next time you see her, you have to talk to her. Maybe if... " I interrupt Gail immediately, because her voice holds far too much hope.

Does this woman not know me at all? She's encouraging me do something that I've never done before as if it's the easiest thing in the world for me to do.

"I don't know if I will see her again, Gail, and even if I..."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll see her again, Sir." Gail states, talking over me. "And going on past events, I don't think you'll have to wait very long." she adds chuckling softly to herself.

I stare at her as she holds my gaze with bright, eager, knowing eyes, and my heart suddenly pounds at the idea of seeing the girl again.

Suddenly, our moment is dissolved by the ringing of a phone. Gail, immediately pulls her phone from her pocket and her eyes light up when she sees who's calling. She excuses her self and quickly rises from her seat to answer it, but not before patting me tenderly on the back of the hand. It's such a motherly and heart warming gesture that it sends a wave of calm right through me.

"You can do it, Sir." she says softly, her smile, still on her face as she heads out of the room to take her call. "Just talk to her." she calls out, just before she disappears out of sight. My eyes linger on the empty door way.

What just happened?

I reveal all to Gail, expecting hatred and desertion, and what do I get? A giggling woman. A woman, who's eagerly awaiting and encouraging my first date. I will never understand women, but maybe she's right. Next time I see this girl, if there is a next time, I'll attempt to talk to her.

The thought of seeing Ana's clone, never mind initiating a conversation with her, excites and terrifies me at the same time, but Gail has faith in me. I should, No, I will, have faith in myself. How hard can it be?

I've brought down the toughest of men. Bargained, bartered and fought for the best deals. I've spoken publicly more times than I can remember. I've accomplished everything I've ever set my mind too. I've dealt with my sister, Mia, for fucks sake. Holding myself together long enough to talk to a girl should be a piece of cake.

Shouldn't it?

Somehow, with my history, I don't think it's going to be as easy as Gail or I hope.

This is Ana, after all, and with the realisation of what could possibly happen, my stomach rolls with dread.

.


	25. Chapter 25 - Honest Explanation

.

Chapter Twenty Five.

Open Explanation.

 _ **Ana.**_

.

Heading into Grey House, I take a deep assertive breath when I see the witch of a receptionist sitting behind her desk. I click, clack over with my head held high, trying hard not to topple over on these ridiculous heels that I'm wearing. I look good, feel good, and I have no reservations about being in this building, or facing her, today.

The receptionist smiles politely, professionally, when I approach her desk and ask for directions to the floor I need. Unlike my last visit here, she directs me efficiently and without any hesitation to where I need to go. I thank her swiftly and turn away, heading straight for the elevator before she realises who I am. It's only once I'm on board and the doors are closing that out eyes meet again, and I see the recognition sweep over her face.

I chuckle to myself as the elevator rises, and only feel the panic of where I am and what I'm about to do, once the doors open again and I step out onto the Human Resources floor.

I'm actually in Grey House.

Glancing around, I can see instantly that I stand out in the sea of Tweed all around me. I stand tall in my new red silk blouse, tight fitting grey pencil skirt and precarious Jimmy Choo's. Kate, assured me that I needed to make a statement and believe me, she's right. I stick out like a sore thumb.

I sit, hiding my nerves as I scan the array of other applicants sitting all around me filling in their own paperwork. I handed mine back to the receptionist a few minutes ago. Unlike all the other applicants in the room, my past employment and previous experience didn't take me long to list. I'm an English Major, applying for an Accounting position. What more can I say. I can't see my application getting past the first initial run through of candidates, never mind securing a job, but that's not why I'm here.

I wonder how hard it'll be to climb the extra floors needed to get Christian's office after this is over? In these shoes, it'll probably be a recipe for disaster but that's my plan.

Suddenly, as if he's read my mind, Taylor, the buzz cut that I remember seeing with Christian, steps from the elevator onto this floor. Studying him closely, I find it hard to picture him being married to Gail. She's so sweet and open, yet her husband, looks very intimidating. Even from across the room.

I can't help but notice how he subtly glances my way as he strides over to the receptionist. Shit, did I spend too much on my blouse? Is the first stupid thought that enters my head. I watch him closely, trying to ignore my quickening pulse as he leans in and speaks quietly to the receptionist.

A few moments later, the receptionist stands. She has a puzzled look on her face, which soon turns into a pissed off frown. She calls out two names and asks the rest of us to leave and reschedule new appointments. As Taylor's eyes flit to mine, I feel my jaw loosen at the absurd thought that this could possibly be about me.

I stand, looking directly toward Taylor. He catches my eye but looks away far to quickly. He's trying for indifference, but I see it. My instincts are right. Christian's done this, he saw me and wants nothing to do with me. He wants me out of this building.

How did he even know I was here?

I try and rein in my paranoia, because surely it can't be true. Christian, didn't even recognize me at the beach the other day, he was pleasant. Not that a two minute conversation is much to go by, but still, at least he never remained silent or ran. He spoke to me and was somewhat civil, but would he really cancel these interviews today, just to get me to leave?  
Only one way to find out.

The murmur of disappointed voices and shuffling feet moving towards the elevators, snaps me out of my stupor and brings me back to the room. With everyone else heading for the elevators, I make a snap decision and swiftly follow Taylor.

As he strides down a corridor just off the reception area, I scurry after him to catch him up. He turns sharply to face me when he senses me on his heels, trying hard to hold onto his stoic expression. I see the instant recognition cross his eyes and the micro expression that he can't control, and I know that I'm right to have followed him.

"Why did he do this?" I ask, as soon as I'm within ear shot.

Taylor doesn't reply immediately, he takes a second to study me.

"I'm afraid, I have no idea what you're talking about, Miss." he says politely, before continuing to walk the corridor.

"Sure, you don't." I hear myself mutter, calling him out on his lie.

"You need to vacate the building, the interviews are over for today. If you would follow me, I'll escort you out." he says, indicating that I should follow him but not pausing his stride. I'm virtually running to keep up with him now, and it's starting to piss me off.

"Listen, I will admit that I don't fit in here, and the job isn't important. I just needed a chance to get into the building and see Christian..." he turns to face me as his name leaves my lips. My feet faulter as I nearly run into the back of him.

Taylor's eyes are dark with conjecture at my familiarity. His brow is furrowed deep, and he's really scary when he's pissed.

"I need five minutes with Christian Grey, that's all. If you..." I try and explain before he can say anything.

"If this is regarding him bumping into you at the coffee shop, then..." he interrupts me sharply. His posture, hard and un waving.

"No, it isn't. It's personal." I utter, lowering my voice and pulling in my rising irritation with him and this entire situation.

We're standing, facing each other, three feet apart and I can feel his quizzical gaze from head to toe. We both ignore the people passing around us. Focused totally on each other.

"What personal business could you possibly have with Mr Grey?" he asks, sceptically.

"I'd rather tell him that." I can't help retort.

"As his head of his security, nothing and no one gets close to him without my say so." he says firmly. His eyes, daring me to argue.

I realize suddenly that he's right, this attitude and hostility between us is not going to get me anywhere. It's like downstairs in reception all over again. I need Taylor on my side. He's my way in. Who better to take me to Christian than his own head of security. I need to shake off my frustration and smile. I need to win him over.

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to offer more information.

"Do I look like a hit man?" I joke. "Do I look like a company mole or industrial spy? I'm not packing, I promise." I jest further as I raise my arms, ready to be searched.

I attempt to turn but wobble on the precarious heels that Kate attached to my feet. I feel myself flush as Taylor takes hold of my elbow to stop me falling on my ass. I notice the hint of a smile cracks his face, so I dive right in.

"Look, Mr Taylor.." I begin as his hand leaves me.

"Just, Taylor." he interrupts me with a polite and practiced smile.

"Hi, Taylor. Nice to meet you." I say quickly, taking hold of his hand and shaking it firmly.

"Hello, Miss Steele." he replies efficiently, trying to hide his smirk.

"You remember my name." I state, all wide eyed. Trying to appear as if it's an exceptional feat.

"It's my job to remember." he says. His tone, hinting at amusement.

"How true, and very good at it you are too." I add, attempting to flatter his ego.

He virtually snorts at me as I roll my eyes, because I can tell immediately that he's on to me.

"I'm very good, Miss Steele. Which is why I can't allow you see Mr Grey, not without a valid reason. Only then, will I see what can be arranged."

His voice is full of authority, precise and controlled, and I know I'll get no leeway from him unless I tell him something. It's clear that he's very efficient and loyal to Christian, and I'm not going to get back upstairs without his assistance. Confiding in him with the truth is the only way to go. My foolish attempt at charming him won't work. Plus, it's disrespectful to Gail to try and play her husband.

"I need five minutes with Mr Grey. That's it. It's imperative that I speak to him and very personnel." I say simply. Hoping, that he'll take me on just my word.

Taylor's face remains impassive, but his eyebrow lifts expectantly. He's waiting for me to say more and I know I'm a fool to hope that he'd trust me.

"It's a long story." I mutter, sounding a little reluctant, because I'm not relishing the prospect of telling Taylor who I am before I've had a chance to tell Christian.

"Do you realize how busy Mr Grey is? I can't just..." he begins.

"Look," I interrupt him quickly. "If you, could spare me ten minutes, maybe we could go for coffee and I could expl..."

"That will not be possible, right now. I have to head back up to Mr Grey's office, he..." Taylor states firmly, but I can't hold my tongue.

"He'll want to know you've kicked me to the curb." I talk over him, sounding as despondent as I feel.

"Not quite, but I do need to return to him."

Taylor takes my elbow, gently but firmly, and heads with me in tow back towards the elevators behind us. I sigh heavily as I totter along with him. I don't want to leave. I haven't even managed what I set out to do. I don't think I'll get to ascend the stairs now that they know I'm here.

As we reach the nearest elevator and Taylor presses the call button, I look at him hopefully, desperately.

"Please, Taylor. Five minutes." I implore one last time before the elevator doors open.

"He won't want to see you." he says quietly, sounding very certain.

"How can you be so sure?" I state. My desperation turning to frustration at getting so close, then once again, being turned away.

"He saw you, while we rode the elevator earlier. He instructed me to see you out of the building without any explanation." he tells me honestly. It surprises me that his voice and eyes are remorseful. My eyes widen as I feel the hopelessness settle on my face.

"I knew it." I utter, and realize once again, that now isn't my opportunity to get close to him. "I only wanted to speak to him." I mutter more to myself.

Finally excepting defeat, I step onto the awaiting elevator.

"I know you did. Which is why I wish to talk to you." Taylor stuns me by saying as I turn around in the elevator to face him. "I have a few duties to perform first. Please, go down to the lobby, wait for me, I'll be with you in about fifteen minutes." he states firmly, before turning on his heel and leaving me. I agree with a nod and beaming smile to the back of his head, and hardly notice when the doors close and the elevator begins to descend.

.

 _ **Taylor.**_

.

As I step onto Grey's floor, I can feel his absence immediately. I turn to face Andrea and an irate Ros, and I don't even need to ask.

"He came, turned on his heel and went home. What the fuck is wrong with him lately?" Ros demands as soon as I'm within earshot.

"What the hell he's doing going home?" I ask, pissed that he's left the building unprotected.

"Fucked if I know, but sort him out, Taylor. His heads all over the place. His moods, lack of concentration and irritability this past week has driven me crazy. He's the one that wanted to jump right into a new project. I, wanted a couple of fucking weeks off." Ros snaps as she turns and heads back to her floor.

Urgently pulling out my phone, I only relax once I've tracked Grey's phone through the GPS and found that he's already reached Escala. I head towards my office and once seated, call Welch. He picks up immediately and without any preamble I dive right in.

"I need you to find out everything you can about a woman who was with Human Resources earlier. Her name's Steele."

Welch, confirms my request with an affirmative, mouth filled grunt, before the line goes dead. Settling at my desk and quickly access the in-house CCTV. I pull up the lobby cameras and focus on Miss Steele as she sits nervously, waiting for me in reception.

I stare at her, taking her all in. Trying to comprehend how she could possibly know Grey. She has the look he prefers, that's for sure, but she isn't an ex of his. I can say with certainty that I've never seen her before the incident in the coffee shop. I remember Grey's reaction to her that day, how he fled the scene, and also, how he's behaved ever since.

She must mean something. But what?

I know he's been distracted and more irritable that normal. His sleep pattern is more erratic and his dreams are more regular than they've ever been. His screaming and yelling during the early hours, could wake the dead. So I know something has been troubling beyond the norm.

I keep my eyes on the woman in reception. Could she be the reason behind his recent strange behaviour?

I sit back in my chair and still with my eyes on Miss Steele, I ponder over what connection theses two could possibly have between them. I'm surprised and very wary of Grey's response to her. He obviously remembers and recognizes her, but why the volatile reaction? Why is he keeping quiet? I know I'll get nothing from Grey, not until he's ready anyway. I need to talk to Miss Steele. I'm very eager to hear what she has to say. Find out what the fuck is going on.

It is my job after all.

.

 _ **Ana.**_

.

Sitting in the plush lobby of Grey House, I can feel the hostile eyes of the receptionist upon me. She spotted me as soon as I stepped off the elevator, but so far, she's been to busy to approach me. I know she's close to heading over, and with that thought, I hear the tell tale sound of heels heading my way.

I turn in my seat towards her confidently, and can't fail to notice how her eyes widen when she takes in my shoes. By the time she's closed the gap between us and her eyes have risen to meet mine they're once again the cold, hard orbs that I've come to expect.

"Excuse me, the interviews have been held for today, do you need any more assistance?" she asks sweetly, but I can see that it's all just pretence. She really just wants to throw me out again.

"I've got this, Maggie." Taylor suddenly appears from behind her, answering for me.

I stand confidently, smiling, when I realize that we're now eye to eye. Maggie, continues to smile as her eyes widen eagerly. She no doubt thinks, and clearly hopes, that Taylor's going to escort me out. I match her smile and confidence, relishing the shock on her face when Taylor greets me by name.

"Sorry, I've kept you waiting, Miss Steele. Are you ready to go?" he says pleasantly, causing Maggie to lose her smile and begin to frown.

"It's fine, Taylor." I reply cheerfully. Purposefully including his name like we're old friends.

I turn to face Maggie, Taylor following suit. We both watch as her gaze bounces between the two of us and even I can see the questions in her eyes. She holds her tongue, nods respectfully towards Taylor and without so much as a look my way, she turns and heads back to her desk. Her footsteps, a little heavier this time.

"Friend of yours?" Taylor asks, hardly missing the hostility that passed between us. I shake my head as I roll my eyes.

"No, she took great pleasure in having me evicted the last time I was here. I think she was hoping for a repeat performance." I tell him honestly and hear his low chuckle.

"Shall we?" Taylor says, as he turns and heads towards the large glass doors of Grey House.

"What reason did you have for being in Grey House before?" he asks as we step out onto the busy street. I don't miss the hint of suspicion in his voice.

"I just popped in, hoping to make an appointment with Christian, but she laughed me out of the building with the help of a suit. No offense" I confess honestly and hide my smile as Taylor chuckles to himself.

I follow Taylor to the coffee shop on the corner, and he's surprised when we enter and the barista welcomes me by name.

"Hi, Ana. The usual?" she calls. Sounding all bright and breezy, despite being so busy.

"Please, Beth." I reply, as I smile a greeting to the young girl I've grown to know behind the counter. Taylor's quizzical eyes don't leave me for a second.

"This coffee shop has the best hot chocolate in the city." I state in explanation.

He doesn't need to know that this building's like my second home, and that I know the names of most of the people that work in all four corners of this building. Taylor doesn't say anything, but continues to eye me sceptically.

We take a seat after Taylor orders, and with no preamble or small talk he dives straight in.

"Miss Steele, why do you need to see Christian Grey?" he asks.

"Ana, call me Ana." I answer. Realizing, that if I have to tell him my life story, then he should at least be calling me by my first name.

"Do you know him? Ana." Taylor questions me again.

"We met when we were children." I answer simply, and see the interest grow on his face immediately.

Beth, heads over and places our drinks in front of us, but her actions don't interrupt our interaction.

"You knew him personally?" he asks, and I simply nod. "How?"

How? Well he saved my life. Could be my simple reply, but somehow, I think Taylor will want a bit more information than that.

How much do I tell him? I guess with him being Christian's head of security, it's all or nothing at this point.

"Do you know much about Christian's childhood?" I ask, gathering my thoughts and preparing myself mentally to retell my story from the beginning.

"Of course, I do. I know everything there is to know about him." he states confidently.

"Do you know how Christian obtained the scars he has on his body?" I ask Taylor quietly.

As my question hangs in the air, I pull the plastic lid from my cup, aiding the liquid to cool. I need the sugar and warmth right now, but it's just to hot to enjoy. I blow gently into my cup, too impatient to wait.

Taylor's eyes crease with anger at my question, and I know it seems like a strange question to start with, but like Leila, he's close to Christian. He and his wife, live with him, travel with him, he must have seen Christian's body at some point. It will be easier for us both, if he knows where this conversation is going to go from the start.

"Miss Steele, if this is an attempt to extort or blackmail him, then I think..." Taylor begins sharply, but I soon talk over him.

"No, Taylor, I would never do that to Christian." I say firmly as Taylor eyes me doubtfully. "The night Christian was hurt...I was there." I say firmly, before he can say anything else.

He sits up straighter and his face screws up in speculation and clear disbelief. He begins to shake his head slowly, looking at me closely. It's clear he doesn't believe me, and his opinion of me is diminishing with every second that passes. His angry eyes tell me clearly that he thinks I'm up to no good.

"I was there, Taylor. I saw what happened to him." I repeat, before his agitation can climb any further.

"No one saw what happened that night. Everyone that was involved in that accident sadly passed away at the scene." he says confidently.

"Not everyone." I say pointed, but softly.

We stare at each other, silently, as the minutes tick by. He eyes me closely trying to get a read on me. Trying to see if I'm lying or not. I take a sip of my drink, allowing his scrutiny as I mentally prepare to open up to him. I have too.

"Christian was hurt, when my fathers car exploded." I begin to explain, but pause as I watch Taylor's eyes widen in disbelief. "He was hurt saving my life...and the life of the dog he now owns...Tess, she was mine once." I tell him with an uncontrollable growing smile.

"What?" he exclaims, surprised.

"Tess, was originally mine." I repeat, as he shakes his head. He's clearly shocked by what I've told him. He'll probably be on the floor by the time I've finished.

"Tell me everything, and start at the very beginning." Taylor orders, as he raises his arm attracting Beth's attention and orders us both more drinks. Looks like we're going to be here for a while.

"You don't want the edited version?" I suggest with a smile.

"No. I want to know everything." he says firmly, making himself comfortable.

I nod, picking up my cup and holding it firmly in both my palms. I focus on the heat that's warming my skin as I mirror his posture and settle back into my seat.

"I met Christian, when he was fifteen years old. I was twelve." I begin. "We were both camping, spending time with our fathers up north. I have an Aunt up there, she and my dad had conspired and gotten me a pup for my birthday. That's how Christian and I met. Tess, fell into the lake while I was playing with her and well, he jumped into the water and saved her. I thanked him, kissed him and shared my sandwiches with him." I chuckle, and feel a flush as the memory recall is so clear.

Taylor nods, encouraging me to continue. His eyes are wide, curious, eager and he seems to be hanging on my every word. I take a few slugs of my hot chocolate before I can say more. It's gotten easier talking about this, but it's still painful.

"We spent a little time together before we left. Not much, because Christian was older and busy with his dad, but he liked to play with Tess, so our paths did cross a few times. I saw him and his father the day of the accident, we shared a goodbye, and I never thought I'd see him again, but our cars hit each other head on...later that night."

"Dear Lord." Taylor mutters, shaking his head minutely and swigging off his coffee. I pause for thought as the images replay. "Please continue, if you're able, Ana." Taylor urges after a minute or two. I smile at his obvious compassion and sudden tenderness.

"The accident came out of the blue." I utter, drifting back and seeing everything so clearly. It still feels like only yesterday. "My dad and I were singing, Tess was sleeping in her crate beside me. It was a dry, clear night but the next thing I know, my dad is dead and I'm hanging upside down."

"Were you hurt?" Taylor interrupts. Concern, clear on his face. I shake my head with a small grateful smile.

"A few cuts and bruises, nothing serious, but I was stuck. I was scared, panicking, crying. Tess was afraid and yapping and I could smell the gasoline. I knew I was in trouble. I tried to pull myself free but my seat belt held me tightly. The next thing I know, Christian is crawling through the broken window underneath me, trying to pull me free. I didn't know, not until that moment, that it was his fathers car that we'd hit."

"Was he injured?" Taylor ask. I pause, shaking my head.

"No, at that point, he only had superficial wounds like me."

"So, what happened?" Taylor prompts. Obviously curious to find out how Christian was injured.

"My seat belt wouldn't release me, no matter how hard Christian tried. He left me to retrieved his fishing knife from his car. He managed to cut me free, but neither of us were strong enough to support my weight. When I fell, I landed on top of him, the car rocked, and the knife he was still holding stuck me in the chest."

My hand involuntarily rises and brushes the indentation on my chest. I can feel it easily through the thin layer of silk.  
Taylors face is frozen in bewilderment, but despite what he must be thinking, his eyes follow my hand. I unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt and reveal my scar to Taylor. He curses under his breath as we share a look, and even though this is all news to him, and seems so far fetched, I know that he now believes me.

"What happened next?" he ask gently. His eyes, still focused on my chest.

"Christian, he was only young, had just lost his father, he was frightened, scared about what he'd done, yet he wouldn't give up on me. He pulled me free from the car. He carried me to safety...He saved my life." I gush, just before my voice hints at breaking.

"You were both clear of the vehicles at this point?" Taylor asks. No doubt picturing what I'm retelling. I nod in confirmation. "Then how..."

I take a deep breath.

"Christian went back to the car." I utter softly. The guilt as prominent within me as it's always been. "We could hear Tess, struggling to get free from her crate. I selfishly begged him to help her...I.."

Taylor smiles at me compassionately as my voice hitches and I feel my eyes fill with tears.

"He was hurt because of me." I whisper, as the remorse I've carried with me for so long, grips and tightens my throat.

"Ana, I don't..."

"At the time." I continue, as if Taylor hadn't spoken, "I didn't realize how dangerous it was. It was only when Christian went back inside the car and I saw the flames...I tried to shout him, warn him, but I was drowsy, dizzy and had lost so much blood. When Christian reappeared with Tess in his arms, I thought he'd be okay, but the last thing I saw was the car exploding and Christian flying through the air, engulfed by flames...I didn't even see him hit to the floor... I never saw him again."

I take a deep breath trying to control my emotions as Taylor hands me a handkerchief. "Then what happened to you?"

"I'm not sure, I passed out. When I woke up in the hospital the next day after surgery, they told me I was the only survivor."

"But you obviously weren't." Taylor states.

"No, I tried to ask my Aunt Meg about Christian when I woke up, but she said I was the only one brought into the hospital alive. I felt so guilty and hated myself for causing his death, that I never mentioned Christian again... I kept everything to myself" I admit. "I never even knew Christian had survived until a few weeks ago. I was..."

"How did you find out?" Taylor interrupts.

"The Ten year anniversary of that night has just past, Christian visited the crash site and left flowers. He left a card, saying goodbye to his father and mentioning me by name. A local man saw him, noticed his Seattle plates, and I traced the flowers to Seattle, came here and hired a Priva..."

"You've had a Private Investigator, looking into Grey?" he interrupts, sounding astounded and slightly vexed.

"Don't worry," I assure him quickly. "William Grant, is a good guy. He knows my story and respects Christian, he even knows his mom. Will's wife, aids Mrs Grey with her charity work. I've paid for the best and his discretion is guaranteed. He's no threat to Christian. I promise" I explain quickly.

Taylor, nods slowly, keeping his eyes on mine while he thinks over what I've told him. He shocked, wary, compassionate, but I can see his apprehension. So, what happens now?

It's foolish of me to think that Taylor will just take me upstairs and allow me to see Christian, but hopefully I've acquired another friend that will aid me in getting close to him again. I just need to keep Taylor on side.

"So, can I speak to Christian?" I ask, regardless of knowing the outcome.

Taylors frown deepens and his eye crease with uncertainty as he holds his tongue.

"Taylor?" I urge. Suddenly feeling very impatient and nervous.

"Give me a minute, you've given me a lot to think about." he says, exhaling a deep breath.

"Thank you, for sparing the time and letting me explain." I gush, hoping to sway him.

"Thank you, for sharing what happened with me. I never knew any of this, and it worri..."

"What has you worried?" I ask quickly.

"Mr Grey, has kept this information to himself for years, no doubt for a reason. His reaction to you earlier was extreme and instant. Nothing I've ever seen before. When he saw you, he ordered me to..."

I chuff, with a melancholy smile, causing Taylor to pause. "Don't worry Taylor, I'm not interested in getting a job here. It's also not the first time Christian's dismissed or ignored me."

"No?" Taylor asks, obviously only aware of the time we met in the coffee shop and instantly interested.

"I've ran into him while out running." I state simply.

"And?" he questions, knowing there's more from the look on my face.

"And nothing, we bumped into each other, I fell on my ass. Christian quickly apologized and left me sitting on the side walk. You witnessed his reaction to me in the coffee shop, he didn't recognize me and fled as soon as he could...he always runs away" I mutter to myself as my voice drifts off.

"He also ran today." Taylor mutters, and my mouth pops open in surprise. Taylor ignores my reaction.

"Mr Grey's reaction to you is what worries me. The fact that he's left his building and gone home shows that he clearly doesn't want to speak to you. Mr Grey is not the type of man who..."

"You're wrong, Taylor. I met him and Tess on the beach last week, he spoke then. He was pleasant, in a fashion," I butt in quickly.

"Christ, how on earth did you meet him and Tess at the beach? What happened when you met him?" he exclaims, and I can see his surprise and agitation because I've shocked him once again.

oh, crap. He'll be dead by the time we've finished.

"I've...rented an annex along the way from him." I utter contritely as Taylor closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry, I didn't just bounce down the road and knock on his front door. He was running on the beach, so I went and said hello to Tess. She remembered me." I share with a genuine smile. "Christian returned, he was surprised that Tess let me pet her. He didn't linger to converse much or introduce himself, but he was polite."

"You never approached him again...over the weekend?" he asks cautiously and I know what he must be thinking.

"No, I could see Christian had company...and I didn't want to bother them. I know you're not with him over the weekends Taylor, and you probably feel like I've been slipping through your security time and time again, putting Christian at risk but believe me, I've never meant any harm. I just wish to speak to him, but I never seem to get the chance to explain who I am. I'll admit, that the first time I saw him he was so like the boy I knew, yet a man I can't get near or fathom, and it scared me...he's very intimidating on the surface. I freeze when ever I'm around him."

Taylor nods in understanding.

"You're full of surprises Ana, and very resourceful not to mention adamant, so I'm sure we'll figure this out." he says convincingly and sounding slightly awed.

"I've even befriended his girlfriend, Leila." I state proudly, then could kick myself, when I see Taylor's pride in me drop.

"What?" he states, sounding shocked. I mouthe the word 'sorry' causing him to shake his head in bemusement. "Is there nothing you won't do? Do you wanna job with me, you're quite the interloper." he continues, chuckling, despite his annoyance with me.

Oh, if only you knew Taylor. Shit, I wonder how pissed he'll be once he finds out I've also interacted with his wife.

"Don't worry, I've not told Leila who I am, nor have I mentioned Christian to her. I've become good friends with her roommate Kate, so I met her that way. I never approached her directly." Taylor seems appeased by my honestly and lack of vindictiveness.

"I know it seems like I'm some mad stalker." I begin.

"You think?" Taylor interrupts, with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head.

"I'm not, I promise. I've just been desperate to see him and covered all bases, jumping on every opportunity that's become available. Like today. Will, found out about the interviews, pulled a few strings and got me in, but it was pointless."

"You met me." Taylor says, pointedly.

"Good point." I retort.

"What else has Will Grant, done to assist you." Taylor asks suddenly. His eyes wary.

"Nothing invasive or intrusive, I promise. He just found out Christian's basic schedule and routine for me. Meeting Leila, and renting the beach house were down to me, Will didn't even know until after the fact. Meeting Christian at the coffee shop and while out running, were both complete accidents. I had hoped today would turn out a little better, even though I knew the jobs available weren't directly working around Christian, but I thought if I was at least in the building I might've stood a chance of bumping into him in the lifts, or in the lobby if I timed it right. Anything."

"That would never have been possible." Taylor chuckles. "Mr Grey has his own elevator and a floor for himself and his execs. It was sheer bad luck on your part that he even saw you today. If his elevator wasn't under repair he would never have been in the communal elevator at that time."

"Sods law." I mutter, with a roll of my eyes. "What happened when he saw me?" I ask, hesitantly. Not sure if I want to know. I hope he didn't have a coronary.

"As I mentioned earlier, he asked me to make sure you left the building." he says, very diplomatically. Giving nothing else away.

I sigh heavily and get a little irritated by this reluctance. "Mr Grey, obviously has his reason for avoiding you, Ana. For now, respect his need for privacy and keep your distance, I will..."

"I don't know if I can do that Taylor, I need to tell him who I am. He needs to know that I'm alive. I know how painful this has been for him, I can see it in his face. Can't you? It was my pain too, remember...Let me help him." I almost beg.

"Let me speak to him first." Taylor says firmly.

"I know how he feels Taylor, he has so much anger, guilt and pain bubbling inside of him. Surely seeing me, will help erase all of that." I've just spilled my guts to this man, shared everything with him. It can't have been for nothing. He has to help.

"It not that simple, Mr Grey is..."

"For Ten years I thought he was dead, Taylor." I interrupt sharply. "For Ten years, Christian's believed that he killed me. Can you imagine what that's like to live with?" I snap at him, not really expecting an answer, but a look flashes across Taylors face that makes me believe he knows what I mean. "You can't imagine how it felt, when I realized he was still alive. My whole being changed and all the weight I'd been carrying around with me, just lifted."

"Ana, I understand what you're saying, but we cant just barge in and..."

"I know that you have to do what's best for him, it's you're job." I cut in firmly. "But you have until next weekend to talk to him, give him my number, or tell him about me... or I'm pulling out plan B." I tell him firmly, and I mean it. I need to speak to Christian and I'm prepared to do anything to accomplish that. Even follow Kate's, crazy scheme.

"Plan B?" Taylor asks, his voice apprehensive.

"It doesn't matter right now." I state dismissively. Taking a minute to calm myself.

"I'm not surprised you have other things up your sleeve, you're very resourceful, but please Ana, don't do anything stupid or anything that could have you arrested. Plus, you don't know Mr Grey, he can be volatile and you wouldn't want to make him angry. Let me talk to him and I'll be in touch." he tries to appease me.

"Thank you Taylor, but I mean it, if you don't help me, I will help myself."

"I've gathered as much." he says with a smirk and we both stand from the table to leave. "Do you need a ride home?" he asks politely.

"No, I've a few things to do before I head back to the beach." I tell him, thinking I'll pop in to see Will and Sylvia, before leaving the city.

"Fine. It was good speaking to you Ana, and I will be in touch, but please, remember what I've said." he says trying to sound enforcing.

"I will, bye Taylor. I'd say, say hi to Christian for me, but somehow I don't think it would go down too well, so you can say 'hi' to Gail for me instead." I say cheerfully without thought, and I know I've signed my own death warrant with my own big mouth, the second I finish my sentence. I look at Taylor slowly, cautiously and his face has grown livid.

"You've spoken to my wife?" he growls. I nod, slowly and sheepishly. "Why am I even surprised." he snipes.

"I didn't tell her anything, or mention Christian. We just happen to meet at the grocery store." I tell him truthfully. "We spoke, we shopped, we shared a recipe or two, that was it. She seems really nice." I tell him sincerely but he still looks pissed off.

"You've gone too far this time. My wife could never help you." he says angrily. "How you could even..."

"Calm down Taylor, I didn't do anything. I just wanted to know the woman closest to Christian, that's all." I snap defensively, as I take a step to walk past him.

Taylor's having none of it, and as he pulls out his phone he takes hold of my wrist and pushes me back into my seat.

"Sit." he snaps. "I can't believe you approached my wife. When was this?"

"Last week, before she went to the beach house." I reply as Taylor rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated with me.

I can understand his anger and frustration with me. He probably feels pretty inadequate right now. I've been slipping through holes in his security and he hasn't even realized it. It wouldn't do to giggle right now, so I chew my bottom lip to curb myself.

"Why did you approach her?" Taylor snaps, while scrolling through his phone.

"Well, I couldn't get near you." I tease, hoping to lighten the mood. I see the hint of a reluctant smile.

"Hi baby." Taylor says suddenly into his phone. I hear Gail's reply through the handset as he sits down beside me.

"Jason, where are you? Mr Grey is at home." she says, her voice expressing her worry.

"I know, I'll be home soon myself. How does he seem?" Taylor asks. My eyebrows rise at his sudden soft and easy tone.

"He's a little rattled, but he's settled at his piano." she whispers.

I knew it was him in the back room of the music store. I knew he played.

"Well, I think I might know why." Taylor mutters to his wife as he looks at me sideways.

"Me too." Gail says with a chuckle into his ear.

"You can tell me when I get home, right now, I need to ask you something, sweetheart." he turns and looks at me pointedly, and I know that if he doubts me in anyway, I'll pay for approaching his wife.

"Sure, what is it?" she responds.

"Last week, did you happen to meet someone while you where shopping for the beach house? A young woman maybe?"

"You mean, Ana?" she says excitedly. I ease beside Taylor as I notice his posture soften at the joy in his wife's voice.

"Yes, Ana." he repeats, sounding surly. At least he now knows that I never caused her harm.

"Oh, she's a lovely girl. She's the one who gave me the recipe for the goulash we had for dinner last night." I smirk and wink at Taylor, as I hear her jubilant tone. "Why Jason? Do you know Ana? Has anything happened to her?" she gushes, her panic growing with her stream of questions.

"Hi Gail." I say loudly so she can hear me.

"Ana, Is that you? How are you dear?" she asks eagerly.

"I'm fine, I'm glad to hear that my Aunt Meg's goulash went down well." I chirp, leaning in towards Taylor.

"It did, thank you, Jason had seconds." she says cheerfully, and I chuckle softly as Taylor looks embarrassed and shifts beside me.

"Okay baby, I have to go." he jumps in cutting her short, preparing to end the call.

"Oh... okay, see you soon Jason, bye Ana. I'm sure I'll see you very soon but call me, okay... soon." she says pointedly, causing Taylor to side eye me once again.

"Will do Gail, take care." I manage to shout before Taylor abruptly ends the call.

"See, no harm. If anything, you should be glad we both made a new friend, and...I got your taste buds going."

"No matter how your meeting went, you shouldn't have done it Ana."

"I know and I'm sorry, but I had to try everything I could think of." I tell him truthfully.

"Have you approached any other member of Mr Grey's family?" Taylor ask suddenly. I shake my head quickly.

"Wills, intel, showed that Christian doesn't spend much time with his family. So, there didn't seem much point. I would never dream of approaching his mother at work, his sister Mia is currently in France. Even his brother Elliot, is working out of town, so it wouldn't have done me any good."

Taylor shakes his head once again, totally blown away and bewildered by how much I know, how much thought I've put into this, and also some of the things I've done.

"I know you're wary and cautious, and why should you believe a stranger off the street? but I promise you, Taylor, what I've told you is the truth. All I want is to say thank you to him for saving my life." I open my blouse and reveal my scar to him once again. "Christian thinks he killed me, Taylor. We have to rectify that, we have to put him as ease and end his suffering."

"I know, and I'll help you." he stuns me by saying.

"You will?" I breathe, eased and reassured.

"Yes." he says assertively.

"Thank you." I whisper, as I feel my tears swell.  
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	26. Chapter 26 - Decisions

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Chapter Twenty Six.

Decisions.

 _ **Christian.**_  
.

Cruising comfortably towards the beach house, I use the time and space to mentally rake over the past twenty four hours. Only now, after I've had time to adjust to the emotional turmoil I caused myself, do I pause to reflect on it.

I was caught up with my piano, lost in my own head, when Taylor returned home from doing my dirty work for me. He marched from the elevator with his eyes full of questions and his usual set determination. My tranquil spell was broken the second he approached me.

 _"Sir..." he began urgently._

 _"Did she leave?" I interrupt him quietly. Ignoring his inquisitive and penetrative gaze._

I remember feeling strangely emotional and physically drained after sharing my past with Gail. I didn't want to talk about it again so soon. I was slumped over the keys of my piano, holding my breath. Unsure, of what I wanted his answer to be.

 _"Yes." he replied._

It shocked me at the time that he looked and sounded almost remorseful. It was probably anger and frustration, caused by his lack of knowledge and what I'd instructed him to do. So I ignored his uncharacteristic tone.

The silence that emanated between us as that one word hung in the air was awkward and stagnant. When I looked up at him, I felt like he could see right through me, could see me from the inside out. I saw his interest grow in me the longer I held my tongue.

 _"Sir, do you know her?" he asked me._

I remember his words being slow, controlled, and meaningful. His eyes, were creased, suspicious and delving. I was hardly surprised. The way I behaved in the elevator was a far cry from normal behaviour. He's in no way stupid and no doubt confused and intrigued by my anger, reaction and irrational decisions today.

In answer to his question, I shook my head at him in truth, because I don't know her. Just because she reminds me of someone I lost, doesn't mean I know her. Doesn't mean I know any of the women that have tormented me recently.

 _"You're certain, you don't know her?" he repeated slowly. Once again I shook my head._

 _"What about the woman you encountered in the coffee shop?" he asks me right out. His tone curious and direct._

I remember looking at him. Feeling the hope behind my surprise at his blatant questioning of me.

 _"No. I'd never seen her before that day, but now, she's... do you think they're the same person?" I asked him, my voice sounding hopeful._

 _I wanted him to confirm my sanity, wanted him to be able to see the similarity between them, because if he could, then I wasn't just seeing what I wanted to see in women that held a slight resemblance to Ana._

 _"I'm convinced it's the same person." he stated and despite the frustrated tightening of his jaw, I was eased by his assessment._

I'm still eased by his assessment.

It confirms that I haven't been imagining all of this. Proves, that I haven't been slowly driving myself crazy over the past few weeks. The girl I'm seeing, is obviously just a girl that lives and works locally. The only reason I notice, and react to her so erratically and irrationally is because of her striking resemblance to Ana. Nothing more.

 _"Sir, I've instructed Welch to gather background on her. I strongly suggest that you call her and..." Taylor continued firmly, and even though I'm surprised by his suggestion, I couldn't be tempted._

Well, that's a lie. For just a fraction of a second I was tempted, my curiosity in her is obviously piqued but I couldn't.

The girl at Grey House today, she's the girl that haunts me and is the constant, painful reminder of what I did. She's not the one that soothes me, eases me. I want to find the girl from the beach. The girl that's invaded my head and took over my dreams. The girl that Tess responded too and trusts. Not the girl that brings me to my knees every time I catch a glimpse of her.

I've held onto Ana's image for long enough. Been tormented by it for long enough. My dreams are showing me a way to evolve. I need a new face to fill my mind, new eyes to look into. I need to find out who's behind the sunhat and shades. That's, who I need to find.

My foot, eagerly propels the car further forward with that tempting thought.

 _"That won't be necessary, Taylor." I instruct him strongly. Wanting this conversation to be over, wanting the whole day to be over. Wanting sleep._

I remember feeling tired, overwhelmed and doubt was creeping in over what I'd revealed to Gail. It felt like I'd awoken an emotional hornets nest within myself, and I didn't want to discuss things further with Taylor.

I still don't want to discuss things with Taylor.

 _"Sir. I think we should talk about this." Taylor tries to insist. "The girl today, she said..."_

 _"The girl today doesn't matter, Taylor." I interrupt him._

 _"Sir, I'm sorry, but I don't agree. We need to discuss what she.."_

 _"No, we don't Taylor." I snap, finding it hard to rein in my rising irritation in him._

 _"Sir, Who is she to you?" he asks me adamantly, determined to get to the bottom of this._

 _"Nobody." I reply with a deep frustrated sigh._

 _Rising from my piano, I prepare to head for my bedroom._

 _"Sir, what has passed between you both?" he demands as I step away from him._

 _"Nothing, nothing has passed between us." I state. "I don't know her, Taylor." I tell him honestly. "Now, drop it." I demand, using a tone that indicates this conversation is now over._

 _I storm to my room, dismissing him, before he could delve any deeper._

I've dismissed him a lot over the past twenty four hours. Him and Gail.

Taylor, has accepted it graciously, he knows better than to speak out of turn, but I can tell that he's pissed, curious and eager to talk. Gail, just keeps smiling at me.

Even now, I still don't want to talk to Taylor. Still don't know what to tell him, how to tell him. How do I explain my pain, my frustration, my reaction to the girl yesterday? I never understand what I'm seeing, never mind what I'm feeling. It was hard enough admitting to myself what she invokes in me. It was hard enough confessing it all to Gail. How do I explain to Taylor, that the girl I keep seeing is a clear vision of my own personal hell?

Not only did I kill her clone, but I killed her father...my father, and she reminds me of that constantly. How can I tell him that she plagues me, that I see her in everyone, everywhere I turn? I can't, so I'm taking the easy way out. I'm hoping Gail will confide and share my confession with him... so I, won't have too. Once she has, maybe then I'll talk to Taylor, but I don't feel ready yet.

I don't feel confident enough talking to him about this, he doesn't hold the same gentle persona as his wife. What good would it do to rehash it out with him, anyway? It's not like she's a security risk or anything. I'm not even on her radar. She, just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Half of the time, she doesn't even notice me when I notice her. So I have no immediate need to discuss my past with Taylor. I see no point. He can't do anything to help or change anything.

"Nothing can be done, nothing can be changed."

Ironically, John's spoken words, said to me so many times over the years, resound on a loop in my head. I've finally realised that he's right. Oh, I could really do with seeing him right now, even if he would just probably gloat for a while. He picked an awful time to take a six week cruise. Not that I begrudge him this time away with his family, I don't, I could just really use his insight right about now.

Today, I've considered for the first time, being totally open and honest with him. I've also considered increasing my sessions with him once he returns home. I really feel the need to share more with him. We've discussed the accident quite a bit over the years, of course we have. He's never been surprised that I've had nightmares about it. He even forewarned me that I'd probably dream more as the anniversary date approached, and he was right. I knew he'd be right. He, just never knew the true reason why.

I think it's about time I told him.

Would my life have been different? Would I still be who I am today, if I'd been honest with him? Could I have stopped all of this from ever happening to me, if I'd been truthful from the beginning about that night? If I'd have told him about what I did to Ana from the start, would I still be mentally tormented now?

Probably not. After talking to Gail, no matter how confused and anxious I feel right now, I can't help but think that on some level it's helped me. I'm just not sure exactly how yet.

Like with Taylor, I feel hesitant about telling John about my recent hauntings, my involuntary reactions to a stranger, and the strange feelings I have for a girl that I met at the beach. How do I rationally explain how she's melted into my subconscious and now appears in my dreams as a warped version of a girl I killed, without sounding mentally disturbed? I don't think I can and truthfully, I don't want to know what he'd make of it.

I don't even know why I remember the brunette from the beach, or why I associate her with the young girl from my past. She said "Hi" to Tess, and that's such a small act, but it's so significant to me. Tess, has never done well with strangers, never welcomed random physical contact, but the girl petted her with ease, even her scorched bits. Tess, never minded her hands on her. Tess knew this girl was comfortable with her and welcomed that. She nuzzled and licked her palm gratefully. She even ignored my instruction to leave and went back to her for more contact. That, has never happened before.

Those, are all normal dog reactions and automatic responses to human interaction, but not with Tess. So this is poignant to me, meaningful, and because of that, I can't shake her. John, will no doubt make a big deal out of it and I know he'll be right to. It is a big deal. Despite, how the vivid flash of red floored me yesterday, the girl from the beach, the image of her, the tune that accompanies her in my head, has kept me grounded. I've used her image nightly to subdue the whirlpool of thoughts raging inside of me, and she's helped me to find much needed rest.

My foot, pushing on the R8's gas pedal, takes me closer. Just a few more minutes. I'm keen to reach my destination and spend the weekend at the beach. I've always looked forward to coming here but this weekend feels different. I want to see the girl again. I hope to see the girl again. I want to see her with Tess, and if I'm really honest I want to hear her play her guitar again. She's captured me and distracted me. Mentally and physically.

Even Leila saw it.

Oh, Leila. I don't know what to do in regards to Leila. I'm so indecisive. I may not be close to her and our relationship may be a formal, written arrangement, but even she knew that I was distracted last weekend. We had an intense hour or so together in my playroom when she first arrived, but after I woke and saw the girl on the beach, I couldn't focus on Leila. I confined her to her room for most of the weekend. I knew she couldn't hold my attention and I didn't want to be near her. I even left for Escala early.

I've already informed Leila, that I won't be needing her this weekend and not to come to the beach house.

I don't feel the pull I used to with her. It's overshadowed by the wispy vision I have in my head. Leila, once served a purpose but I think that purpose is redundant now. I did mention a few weeks ago that I was contemplating ending our arrangement at the end of this three month term. She wasn't to happy about the possibility, probably wanted to argue her point, but she held her tongue. She still holds the appeal of the torment I've carried, but I need to break this detrimental cycle with her.

With myself.

I'm doing myself no favours at all trying to fuck the guilt out of myself, and Leila, is becoming clingy and yearns for harder kink. She hasn't dared say anything, but I can read the frustration clearly on her body when I'm with her. I tie and blind my submissive for a reason. I don't want them to look at me or touch me. I spank and flog for enjoyment and to ease my inner frustration. The pain she's after and has had contracted to her previously, will not be found by my hand.

I swear, I heard her whisper that she loved me last weekend as I carried her fatigued body back to her bedroom. Those three little words can never lead anywhere good, so this has to stop. This has to stop now.

I think I've made my decision. I feel better for making a decision.

Next weekend, I'll end our contract. Next weekend, will be the last time I see her. Next Friday, will be our last evening together.

This weekend, here and now, I want to be at the beach house alone. Hopefully, I'll have an opportunity to see Tess's new friend again. Hopefully I can see them interact together again. Maybe I can get a clear look at her this time. Maybe, if I'm really lucky, I can follow Gail's advice and talk to her. Maybe, I could even find out her name.  
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	27. Chapter 27 - Avoidance

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Chapter Twenty Seven.

Avoidance.

 _ **Ana.**_

.

Sitting in the back of a cab heading for Kates, I ease into the seat and use the short journey to allow my mind to wander. Sharing my past with Taylor, has left me in a bit of a tail spin. I thought after confiding in him that I'd hear from him within hours. I thought he'd call me with news, an appointment, a dinner invitation. I even half expected a restraining order. I hoped to hear something, anything, but no, nothing. I haven't heard a peep from him and it's caused my apprehension and paranoia to grow.

I soon realised, that spending time at Grey House last Friday, would've frustrated and depressed the hell out of me. Especially with Taylor knowing about me and his apparent silence. I took that as my cue and since then, I've avoided all things Grey.

After admitting my stalker tendencies to Taylor, I decided not to spend the weekend at the beach. I had a feeling that I'd be watching Christian, as Taylor, or another suit just like him, would be watching me. Truthfully though, I just didn't want to witness Leila and Christian spending time together. I know I didn't see them together the weekend before, but last weekend felt different, and I knew I'd made the right decision to leave once I spotted Christian.

I passed Christian as I was leaving my annex on Friday lunch time. I thought I'd leave before he arrived for the weekend, but he was early. I only saw him for a few seconds as he climbed out of his car and I climbed into mine, but he appeared happy and relaxed. He looked elated. He was clearly looking forward to this time with Leila, and I didn't want to interfere with that. His weekends do belong to her after all, and who knows how many she has left.

I needed to distance myself from everything. I felt like I was slowly being consumed by it all and just needed to take stock and clear my head. So, I drove home and spent a few days with Aunt Meg. I arrived home to find her dining with Ben. By all accounts, they've been seeing a lot of each other in the few weeks that I've been away, and I couldn't be happier for the pair of them. I always thought they'd be well suited to each other and spending time with them, proves I was right. They seemed so happy and comfortable around each other, and I hope for the pair of them that it develops into something more and long lasting. They both deserve it.

As well as talking to Kate, I also heard from Will, while I was at home. He's extended his daughters invitation to The Grey Charity Gala to me. She's abroad and unable to return home in time for the event, which is great news for me. I'm looking forward to it, and not just because it's an ideal opportunity to get close to Christian, but because I've never been to such a lavish event before. I have to dress up and everything. Kate, has offered to help me get ready for the evening and I dread to think what she will deem suitable. Will, also assures me that worse case scenario and Christian doesn't show up that night, Will, has an appointment scheduled with him for the week after.

I stayed with Aunt Meg, until Tuesday morning. I fought the pull to return to Seattle as long as I could, but ultimately gave in. Driving back to Seattle, I was determined to steer clear of Grey House for a few days and give Taylor his opportunity to help me. I drove past the imposing building as I returned to the beach and felt like the entire building was watching me. Each day the urge to swing into the bookstore or grab a quick coffee, was becoming harder to resist, so as a distraction for myself, I took in the sights and sounds of Seattle instead.

It's an amazing city and with Will and Kates recommendations, I've had a wonderful few days. The only down side to all my sight seeing, was my Aunt Meg's threat to disown me if I didn't stop sending her touristy crap. Her words, not mine. Personally, I don't think you can ever have too many fridge magnets, but she doesn't agree.

Mid-week I gave in and tried to call Taylor. All I got, for the hour it took me to gather the courage to dial the number on his card, was his abrupt and impersonal voice mail. I didn't leave a message.

I wonder if he's actually spoke to Christian about what I shared with him. I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't. I also find myself fretting over what Christian's reaction was if he did. Taylors silence, doesn't fill me with hope or ease, but then again, Taylor's probably finding it hard to bring the topic up. He can't actually bounce into Christian's office with wave and a, "Hey, remember that girl you thought you killed when you were a kid..." No, thinking about it, I can understand how he'd have to pick his moment. But does it have to take so long?

Worryingly, there's also been no sign of Gail. I rang her like she asked me to over the weekend, once I was settled at home. She never answered my call but I did leave her a message, which she hasn't returned. There was also no sign of her at the grocery store today, and I don't know what that means. I popped into the store around the same time as last week, and even sat in the lot for a while looking out for her, but she never showed. Has Taylor spoken to Gail? Barred her from talking to me? Probably, they are married after all, and Taylor doesn't know me well enough to trust me on my word alone with his wife.

It's so frustrating and makes me want to scream, this not knowing what Taylor's doing to help me, or if he even will. I gave Taylor a change to talk to Christian and he hasn't, for whatever reason. I don't want to consider that he has and that Christian doesn't want to know me, but that would just be my luck. Either way, I gave Taylor an ultimatum, I gave him a week to do something, or I would take matters into my own hands. His time, is nearly up.

He has until tomorrow evening, then it's time for Plan B.

Leila, is coming into play.

.

As I step from the cab outside of her and Kate's apartment, I try to put on my game face. Kate, has invited me to stay over at their place to initiate stage one of her crazy, yet very tempting plan. I'm trying hard to convince myself that what I'm about to do isn't selfish, insane, or even down right cruel. If it was any other couple, any other pairing of two people in a relationship, I wouldn't even be considering this. But this, is Christian and Leila.

It's going to be strange, and hopefully not too awkward, spending time with Leila again. I know a bit more about her and her relationship with Christian now, and tonight, I have to pretend that it doesn't frustrate me because she gets to spend time with him. Even if it's not a conventional relationship, she still gets to enjoy his company. In a fashion, anyway. She still gets to sleep in his house, eat with him and share the weekend with him. Even if it's not in his bed, and their time is not shared like a regular couple, she's still with him.

I picture suddenly what she's shared with us and no matter what restrictions there are between them, she still gets to kiss him while he touches her. She has no sight and can't make a sound while he touches her, but she can feel him. She can feel him over her, on her, in her. Oh, Leila's right, it is kind of erotic when you think about it. If not frustrating as hell after a time. After seeing Christian up close and knowing his physique. It must be frustrating, awfully frustrating, not being able to touch him. To not be able to run your fingers through his wild hair, or trail your nails down his wash board abs. Oh, I don't know if I'd have the willpower Leila has had to find.

Kate asked me once if I was attracted to him. I said no at the time because I didn't, but now, I'm not too sure. I know he's very good looking and I love him for the saving of my life, but could it go deeper? I think without my being aware of it, it has. I will admit that I've missed seeing him over the past week, even if it is, just in passing.

I don't know exactly what I miss though. I don't know Christian. I feel like I do, but that's just because I know his life, his routine and the people around him. I don't know the man he's grown to be. Nobody seems too.

Apart from the brief help he offered me when I fell, and when I met him with Tess, I haven't conversed with him. I certainly don't know him. He didn't even introduce himself to me, but my tongue tied tongue didn't help with that either. So it's not all on him.

When he was abrupt with me in the coffee shop and kicked me out of his building before my interview, I'll admit that that did hurt. To know first hand that he could push me away so easily and not understand why, can be painful when I'm on my own.

You'd think he'd be glad to see the girl he thought he'd killed and want to know I was alright, but no, he runs and...Oh God, he...

My phone buzzes from my jacket pocket startling me, but thankfully, it puts a stop to my mental self-berating and rising doubts. Answering my phone, Kate screams in my ear, telling me to get my butt upstairs as Leila is on her way home with Chinese, and the need to escape for a bit. She's a little apprehensive about this coming weekend and needs girl time. I can't say I blame her. She must feel awful, knowing that her relationship will soon be over. It could be her last weekend. That just makes me feel worse about this evening.

I found out through Kate, that Christian cancelled on Leila at the last minute last weekend. To say I was shocked was an understatement, especially with the smile I'd seen on his face. I never thought he'd do that, and even now, nearly a week later, I could still kick myself. I deliberately went home to keep out of his way, when I could've been at the beach with him and Tess, alone. All weekend.

Sadly, it didn't happen and we now need to but Plan B, into operation.

Utilizing tonight, I have to prove to myself that what we're planning on doing, will not hurt Leila in anyway. Never mind justify it to myself. We also, subtly, need to prize all the information that we need out of her. I'm hoping that Kate, will do most of the talking.

Heading up to her apartment, Kate, meets me halfway down the hallway. Urging me on excitedly, she assures me that this is our one and only chance of doing this. It's all systems go for this weekend. We have to do this now if I want to meet him.

Leila knows that it's over. Christian has asked her to come over tomorrow evening as normal, but forewarned her that she'll not be staying the weekend.

It's now or never, if I want to meet him. If I want to be alone with him. I have to do this.

I need to get close to Christian. I need to confront him. I need to have his full attention and give him no place to run to. Kate, in all her wisdom, has convinced me that this is the only way to accomplish all of that. It's a golden opportunity that can't be passed up. She has quoted many times since coming up with this scheme.

I just hope to God that she's right, because I really don't fancy being arrested.  
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	28. Chapter 28 - Deception

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Chapter Twenty Eight.

Deception.

Ana.

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As my eyes open on Friday morning, after an easy night of Chinese, movies and girly chat, I feel like I'm ready for today. Last night, Leila started out edgy and apprehensive, but grew more adamant as the night went on. She admitted to being desperate to see her boyfriend tonight and shared once again, how she'd grown to love him, the life he leads and how she didn't want to lose that. The more she relaxed, the more she opened up and mused with us. She ended the night by declaring that this was the weekend, where she finally told her boyfriend how she truly felt about him.

I reluctantly held my tongue and didn't attempt to talk her out of it. Neither, did Kate.

Leila was confident, that once her boyfriend knew how much she loved him, he would let down his walls, reciprocate her feelings and want to stay with her. Hopefully, even marry her, someday. I don't know if she was trying to convince Kate and I, or herself more, but it didn't work. The only thought I had while Leila was doing all of this wishful thinking, was that if Christian hadn't opened up to her by now, hadn't proposed to her by now, then he never would.

Kate and I, kept our compassion and reasoning to ourselves, and nodded along in all the right places.

Kate shared with me, that Leila has been riddled with panic and upset this past week, because she never saw her boyfriend last weekend. She confessed, that apart from the odd business trip that he's had to take at the last minute, it's the first time in eighteen months or so, that they've not been together at the weekend. He chose to spend the weekend alone, with no explanation and for no apparent reason. Leila knows this is a bad sign, but sadly, she's still hoping for a positive outcome after her confession this evening.

I still feel guilty for what Kate and I plan on doing to Leila today, but if I thought for just one second that she and Christian shared a real relationship, or if I believed that she genuinely loved him, I would never dream of following Kate's crazy plan, but they don't, and she doesn't, so that helps eradicate my ever rising guilt.

Listening to Leila explain what they share and what she feels for her boyfriend, isn't love. Well, it might be in her eyes, but it certainly isn't in mine. It's a superficial, greedy type of love. A cold love. She doesn't know the man she thinks she loves. She only sees the power, the money, the cars, the houses and what he can do for her.

Knowing who it is that she's talking about, when she speaks about her boyfriend, lets me see the real Leila. She could be talking about any successful business man within a ten mile radius, not the man she's supposed to love and want to spend the rest of her life with.

Like me, Leila knows nothing personal about Christian, but at least I can understand him. Christian, has never trusted Leila enough to allow her to get close to him. He's always kept her at arms length, never shared things with her. How on earth can that be love? Leila, is a little delusional, and desperate, and I believe Christian deserves more than that. Even if he doesn't realise it himself, yet.

So now, as Dee Day arrives, the games are about to begin.

Rolling free of Kate's sofa, where I've surprising spent a comfortable night, I head for the coffee machine in the kitchen. After filling it, switching it on and gathering cups, I quickly slip into the empty bathroom to freshen up. Kate, is in the kitchen finishing our drinks and gathering cereal when I return. As we smile a greeting to each other, she hands me a clean bathrobe to change into.

"Are you sure about this, Kate?" I utter softly as I hear the patter of approaching feet.

"Definitely." she mouths, as Leila walks into the kitchen and greets us with a sleepy, "Good morning."

As I return Leila's greeting, I can't help but notice how tired she looks. It's obvious that her night has been restless, no doubt caused by the uncertainty of what tonight holds for her and her relationship. My gut rolls with indecision and shame as my eyes flit to Kates. She must see what I see, surely? I realise immediately that she does, when she steps in front of me, deliberately blocking Leila from my view. She wastes no time in handing Leila a cup of coffee and ushering her toward the shower.

Kate, turns to me the second we hear the water running. "Don't be having second thoughts, Ana. I know what you're thinking, so quit it." she states firmly, reading me like a book.

"But Kate, It's so unfair to Leila." I begin truthfully, unsure once again.

"Don't go soft of me now, Steele. Leila, will be fine. Think of it, as you doing her a favour." Kate interrupts me. Her tone flippant.

"A favour?" I utter, bewildered by her logic to all of this.

"You're saving Leila from herself, Ana." my brow lifts, wondering where she's going with this. "No woman likes to be dumped face to face," she explains. "We both know that her so called boyfriend, doesn't feel the same way about her. Christian doesn't love her and will no doubt explode when she tells him. It won't end well for Leila, You really are doing her a favour.

"I suppose I am." I mutter to myself, seeing her point.

"Christian, can call her, tomorrow." she adds convincingly and I find myself nodding in agreement.

"Leila, will be fine." Kate insists, as she grabs her coffee and heads to the apartment door to answer the intercom that's just sounded. I stare after her, stunned by her excitement and disregard for Leila's situation, but understanding her reasoning, the more I think about it.

"It's show time." Kate sings, giving me a conspiratorial wink and a beaming, over exaggerated smile as she buzzes the caller up.

Once Kate has opened the apartment door, she takes my hand and leads me over to my make shift bed. Gathering all the bedding I've used from the sofa, she quickly tosses it onto the bed in her room and pulls me to sit beside her on the sofa. With our coffee cups in hand, we both have our eyes on the apartment door.

Fridays, are a type of ritual for Leila. The primping and preening for her weekend with Christian, begins at 10am sharp. As if by magic, a beauty therapist from a very expensive, high end salon, pushes open the door with familiarity and marches straight into the apartment. Instantly taking command of the room, she pays Kate and I no real attention as she begins setting up her things in the centre of the room. She's tall, regal, beautiful, but appears really intimidating as she starts barking instructions at Leila, who's just appeared from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, in a thick Russian accent.

Over the course of the day, Leila is laid out horizontally on a plush massage table, where she's preened, plucked, buffed and smoothed from the tips of her toes, to her newly touched up roots. It's surprises me that she's not a natural brunette but a dark ash blond, with her dark eyes, I never would have guessed.

Kate and I join in with Leila, and spend the day relaxing beside her. We gossip, chat and unknowingly delve, while working on and pampering each other. All the while and oblivious to what we're doing, the vile, thick, fruit and vegetable smoothies that Leila has been sipping through a straw all day long have been heavily laced with alcohol. Kate made sure that by four o'clock, when the therapist left, Leila was half asleep and legless, literally.

After we helped Leila, well, rolled her off the massage table, which the beauty therapist reluctantly left behind, but before she fell face down onto her bed, Kate did what she does best and went to work. She coerced Leila into revealing what the night with the love of her life entailed, and we got it all.

She let slip the code for the security gate, bragging, how it's the date of when her and her boyfriend first got together. She then growled out the code for the house, pissed. because it's the date of when her boyfriend got his fuckin dog. Kate hides her chuckles as she questions Leila further. All the while, dressing her and tucking her into bed.

Leila mumbles, sleepily, almost incoherently, about what she'll be doing tonight, what Christian expects of her, and where she has to go once she gets there. Kate and I share a worrying eyebrow lift, when we realise that Christian has a specific room where he entertains Leila. Apparently, she has her own bedroom, because Christian doesn't allow her to sleep with him, but what shocks us more, is that he has a so called playroom, and this, is where they spend their time together.

Especially on her arrival.

Poor Leila, she doesn't stand a chance with Christian. There's no love between them. Not at all. It's pretty clear that she's there for one reason, and one reason only. Kate's right, she's been right all along, and tonight would be heart breaking for Leila. Whether her love is superficial or not, she doesn't deserve to have it thrown back at her, like Christian would no doubt do.

Leila drunkenly mumbles into her pillow, before appearing to pass out completely. As she begins to snore softly on her bed in between Kate and I, our eyes lift from her and lock with each others. After what feels like an age, Kate breaks our silent exchange.

"It's time, you have to do this." she suddenly screams at me as she dashes away from the bed and into Leila's small, walk-in closet.

After rummaging around, she pulls out a light blue shirt and dark skinny jeans. Her eyes are wide and exhilarated as she crosses the room and throws them at me. As I hold Leila's clothes in my hands, the true realisation of what I'm about to do hits me and I feel myself freeze. My stomach rolls and my mouth becomes parched, and all I can do is stare at her.

"But, Kate..." I begin to murmur, looking down at the clothes and staring at them blindly.

The fear begins to rattle right through me as I think about what I actually have to do, where I have to go, and who I will ultimately be facing. The butterflies that I can feel swarming deep in my belly suddenly scatter and consume me from head to toe. Half of me is terrified, petrified of Christian's reaction and the possible involvement of the police. The other half, is excited at getting a chance to talk to him and very keen, to see this playroom of his. Not that I'd ever admit that to Kate.

"No buts, Ana. We've talked about this." Kate says firmly. "You need to confront Christian, talk to him with no distractions or interruptions. You also need to corner him in a place where he can't run from you. This, is your golden opportunity, this, is our Plan B." she states convincingly.

"Kate, as much as I want to see him, it's such an intrusion. What if he gets angry and calls the police? I have to break into is house and..." I begin to gush nervously, causing Kate to come around the bed and take me firmly by the shoulders.

"It's not breaking in, if you have the codes and know the people that reside there." Kate interrupts, looking me square in the eyes.

Her creeping grin, tries to calm and convince me, but her eyes tell me that she knows what she's saying isn't necessarily true, but I'll be okay. Her excitement is contagious and I want to swim along, but the apprehension that's bubbling is still out weighing my bravado.

"I have to enter his home without his permission, or him seeing me. How..." I try and lay out the hurdles I have to face, needing a lot more encouragement.

"Ana, Christian doesn't meet and greet Leila at the door. There's no security there right now, and he's expecting you. How hard can it be? Just follow Leila's normal routine and you'll be fine." Kate assures me, as she begins to pull at my robe.

"What if he sees me before I manage to get inside the house?" I interrupt, shooing her hands away.

"You'd pass for Leila from a distance, just wear her shades. Oh, and put your hair in a braid, Leila always braids her hair before leaving. If there's any sign of him, just rush in. Head straight for the room, second on the left at the top of the stairs and wait for him. Now get dressed." she instructs. I let my robe fall and begin to pull on Leila's clothes.

"Kate, I don't know if I can do this. I only want to talk to him, not strip naked, cover my head with a hood and wait for him to use my body." I feel my cheeks burn at what I've just said and the image it's conjured up. Kate quirks and eyebrow at me as I feel my flush spread down my neck.

"Oh come on Ana, that's got to be a perk to all of this, surely. This is Christian Grey we're talking about. Have you seen that body of his?" Kate says salaciously, before laughing at me.

I chuckle along, knowing she's right and it's very tempting, but I don't know if I can. I'd sooner bump into him in the kitchen, throw on the kettle and say hi to Tess. I don't think I'll be able to function if I'm naked. If he's naked.

Kate urges me to dress quicker, because I seem to have stalled. I find myself pulling up and buttoning, the jeans of another woman, that fit me amazingly well. As I pull on Leila's shirt she mutters and rolls in her bed. I look down at her and feel another ripple of shame for tricking and deceiving her.

"Kate..." Is all I manage to say before she is firmly talking over me.

"Ana, don't." she snaps.

"This isn't right, Kate. Leila deserved to spend her last night with her boyfriend." I insist, remorseful once again. "We can find another way."

Kate, surprisingly holds her tongue as she looks at me quizzically. I don't know what she sees on my face, but her eyes and demeanour suddenly soften. She steps forward and surprises me by starting to button up my shirt. My hands hang limply at my sides as my eyes follow her fingers.

"Ana, forget about Leila for a minute and answer me this. Do you think Christian will be disappointed that you've taken Leila's place tonight?"

I shrug, then I'm hit with a sudden thought. "He's not going to get laid." I state the obvious.

Kate splutters a chuckle, but otherwise ignores my childish remark.

"Ana, do you honestly believe that Christian shares Leila's feelings?" she asks.

I shake my head negatively.

"Do you think he will be upset about not seeing Leila...once he finds out about you?"

"No, but.." I answer automatically. Recalling how their relationship is only based on sex and how eased I felt, once I knew Christian was still alive.

"Then no buts, Ana." Kate says with determination.

She leans around me and takes Leila's purse from where it's sitting on her bedside table. Opening it, she rummages around then hands me Leila's car keys.

"Maybe, I could just go home. Knock on his door later, ask to borrow a cup of sugar. I know he'll be alone, tonight." I suggest, hopefully.

"Ana, don't try and talk yourself out of this. I know how much you need to get close to him. I know how much it means to you to talk to him...you were muttering his name in your sleep, last night." Kates says softly. Squeezing my hand as I accept the keys.

My eyes rise to hers, shocked and watery, because I don't remember dreaming last night. I feel gutted that I dreamed of him, and don't remember.

"Ana, Christian Grey, is bound deep within you." Kate says passionately as she lifts her hand and touches my scar through Leila's shirt. "You need to forget about Leila, forget about everyone and everything else and tell him who you are. You can do this." She states, and I can feel her positivity and encouragement.

"I can do this." I repeat. Clinging to the confident feelings that she's induced and growing inside of me.

"Go, Ana. Go get your man." she sings at me, while grabbing a hairbrush from Leila's vanity.

"He's not my man, Kate." I reply, rolling my eyes with a giggle.

"He soon could be, especially if you're brave enough and he gets to see you in your underwear." she teases, before planting a kiss on my forehead, spinning me round and pulling my hair into a braid.

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	29. Chapter 29 - Eager

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Chapter Twenty Nine.

Eager.

 _ **Christian.**_

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Lounging on the deck with Tess, enjoying the last few rays from the setting sun, I'm feeling content, comfortable and very reluctant to move. I've spent so much time here over the past week, that it's almost starting to feel like the norm. It's certainly something I could get used to. Given half a chance.

This past week, I've had no urge to don a suit and sit in my office or board room. So I haven't. I've worked from home and spent my time at the beach. I've only shown my face at Grey House, Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons of this week, and while I was there in body, I was so distracted, that I was of no use to anybody. As Ros, will venomously attest to.

With Sarah heading home for spring break, it was the perfect excuse for me to stay here. I needed the peace, the tranquillity and the heart warming comfort, that I've only ever found with Tess. Or so I told myself. Even though I've spent most of my time on the deck with Tess, I have been working on my laptop. If you can call it that. I've had one eye on rising stock shares, and the other, trained on the house in my peripheral. But, my spending so much time here this week, has nothing to do with the girl residing down the way.

I kept telling myself that, so the sting of disappointment didn't linger around to long, because sitting here, craning my neck for most of the week, has led me nowhere. After talking to Gail and realising that I wanted to face my fears and finally feeling like I'd grown the balls to speak to the girl stuck in my head, I've not seen her. Not a single glimpse of my dream girl from the rental.

I caught sight of her outside her house when I first arrived here on Friday, and I was thrilled at the thought of being alone here all weekend. I relished the thought of her being so close and potentially accessible. I never realised, that that one snippet, would be the only time I'd see her.

Even though I only saw her for a few seconds, it completely floored me. She looked exactly like she appears in my dreams. She was the perfect version of Ana that my mind has put together subconsciously, and I was eager to talk to her. I was watching the beach constantly after that. Even when I ventured indoors, I deliberately found the most advantageous view point from my house and sat, just hoping to see her return, but I got nothing for my stalking. I was genuinely gutted, when she hadn't returned by Sunday evening.

I'm still gutted now, a week later.

When my vision of Ana, hadn't returned by Sunday evening, I found that I couldn't tare myself away from here. I stayed until Tuesday morning, and even then, I dreaded the thought of leaving in case I missed her, but she hasn't returned, I'm sure of it. Even though I've nipped to Grey House for a few hours during the day, I've returned here every night with my eyes peeled. I thought I saw a light on at the property on Wednesday evening, but I can't be certain and either way, it hasn't lead to anything. She definitely wasn't here last night and even now, the house looks deserted.

Yesterday, I couldn't stand the uncertainty any longer and tried to contact the owners of the house to inquire about their elusive tenant, but they're away overseas for four months. The local company that lets out the property, wouldn't share any information with me when I called. I got so pissed off with their lack of cooperation, that I threated to buy the company so I could find out for myself. The owner came onto the line and blatantly laughed in my face, while also telling me to stick my threats where the sun doesn't shine. I soon realised it was an old business rival of mine and knew I wouldn't get any help from him. Even Welch, couldn't find out anything due to fuckin, data protection, but he did find out that the property is unavailable to rent at this time. So I've taken that as a good sign.

I'm just praying that the girl isn't on vacation, I have a feeling that she might be. If she's gone back home, back to where she came from, then I won't have a hope of finding her again. I just hope that I haven't missed my chance of meeting her. If I have, then I don't know how I feel about that.

Not that I'm obsessed with her or anything, even though, that's certainly debatable right now. I will admit, that while I've been staying here, I've been running. Every morning, I've ran round the city and taken a route that will pass exactly where I knocked her over. I even take a water break there, wandering down the adjoining streets just hoping to see her again. I've ran, and spent so much time on the beach this week, that even Tess, has given up following me about.

I feel like I'm wasting my time, though, because how am I supposed to find someone when I'm unsure of what they look like? She may resemble Ana, but I've never seen her long enough or clearly enough to be sure of her own features. It could still be wishful thinking and my eyes filling in the gaps and playing tricks on me.

It's hard to explain, but it's more what I feel when I'm around her than what she actually looks like. What I sense in my sleep and how her lingering presence calms me after waking, that's what I crave and what I'm looking for. That's what's important to me, but it seems more unreachable the longer she's absent.

Curiosity and the need for a fix of any sort, had me searching for Ana's look alike while I was at Grey House. I even called into the coffee shop and stuck my head into the book store. I hooked into the buildings CCTV from my desk to observe the hustle and bustle, while supposedly on a conference call. Taylor, did such a good job evicting the girl in red from Grey House, that I didn't see hide nor hair of her. Not that I really expected too.

Taylor, sent over the background check, that I didn't request, and after cautiously opening the file, I breathed a sigh of relief. The awful driving licence photo that greeted me on opening it, did not resemble Ana. The red rimmed, dull blue eyes, and lank, brown hair pulled haphazardly into a pony tail, could never belong to the child I knew. I didn't look any further, but I know that's why I couldn't find her. I know now that she's real, with a name and a background of her own, and not someone I imagined her to be.

I've been waiting for Taylor and his interrogation, but he's been surprisingly quiet. He's probably enjoying his unexpected time off with his wife, but I can't be sure. I've seen neither of them since leaving Escala, last Friday. As per, Gail went to spend the weekend with her sister, but while there she took a nasty fall, hurting her hip badly. Gail has stayed to assist her sister, and I insisted that Taylor stayed with her. I've had an agency covering things here, and at Escala, and it's been good to have a change in routine and time to myself. It's given me time to think and put things into perspective. Gail will have spoken to her husband, because I know they don't keep secrets from each other. Taylor, no doubt knows by now what happened to me and what I thought I saw. Why would he need me to confirm his wife's retelling of what I shared with her?

Tess shifts beside me, letting me know that it's time to go inside. She's hungry, wanting her dinner, so I have to cease my stalking. Rising from the lounger, I stretch my body out before gathering my things. I've already eaten, done everything I need to do, so once Tess is settled, I just have to wait for Leila to arrival.

I don't relish what will happen tonight, because Leila, will no doubt be upset with my decision. When I cancelled on her last week, I could hear the disappointment clearly in her voice. So I know she'll not be thrilled with what I plan on doing later. I feel good about my decision to finish things, because I know this situation will get out of hand if I don't nip it in the bud now.

Eighteen months of stagnation with one person is more than enough, it's not like it's ever going to lead anywhere. She maybe my longest contracted Submissive, but our contract needs to end. I find that I'm eager to tell her. I could've just had Taylor, hand deliver her things and paperwork but after so long, I thought she deserved to hear it from me. Face to face. I've printed out and already signed, our end of contract agreement, boxed up all of her things, and deposited a lump sum into her bank account.

As far as I'm concerned, we're all done and dusted.

I'll selfishly indulge, and spend sometime with her before I dismiss her this evening, but it won't be enough. She's not enough. Not anymore. I don't think it's right that I'm having thoughts of another woman while she's here. A tad hypocritical I know, because she's only ever been here to appease my need for Ana anyway, never for herself, but this time it's different.

Ana was an illusion, an ideal, that Leila enforced and provided for me. The girl I've met here, she's true and real, and I want that. I want what she brings with her. So I can't spend my time with anybody else. Especially Leila.

I feel the need to clear my head and blow off some steam before she gets here. I know I've got time for a quick run down the shore line, so after ushering Tess into the house and feeding her, I head back out for a quick run.

On my return, all sweaty with my heart pounding, I smile to myself, when I see the headlights from Leila's car turn into the drive. The gate closes automatically behind her as she exits her car and enters the house through the side door. I breathe deeply, pulling in more air suddenly feeling exhilarated. Digging my heels into the sand I push myself home determinedly, eager, to get this over with.

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	30. Chapter 30 - Plan B

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Chapter Thirty.

Plan B.

 _ **Ana.**_

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Pulling up outside Christian's house has my heart pounding. It feels like it's only one beat away from exploding in my chest. I don't know how I was able to drive here safely because I'm shaking like a leaf. My body, genuinely needs the deep breath of fresh air I take as I lower the car window and key in the security code for the gate. My eyes scan left and right nervously as the gates open and I proceed cautiously down the short drive to the side of the house.

"No backing out now." I whisper to myself as I hear the gates closing behind me.

Stepping out of Leila's beautiful little car, I feel a wave of relief wash over me when I spot Christian running on the beach. He's cast in shadow, just a dark silhouette on the glowing sand, but he's easily recognisable highlighted by the last few rays of sunlight. Knowing Christian isn't at home makes this a little bit easier for me, at least I know for sure that I've got time to enter his house before he finds me and kicks my ass out.

"I can do this. I can do this." I chant to myself as I fight the urge to flee to the safety of my temporary home next door and come back later.

After using another key pad and entering Christian's home, I don't take much notice of my surroundings as I begin my mad dash to find the stairs. I pass through a small hallway that leads into a large, open plan kitchen, and that's where I come skidding to a halt. I chuckle out loud when I spot Tess, sprawled on her bed in the corner of the room. She's watching me with interest so I head over and slide to my knees in front of her, pulling her into my arms with no hesitation once I'm close enough. I plant a kiss on the top of her head, then chuckle, when her eager, wet tongue finds my cheek. Taking hold of her head in both my hands, I begin to rub her ears vigorously. Taking strength from her comfort and delight at seeing me, I rise to my feet and continue on my way before I can bottle out.

"Wish me luck, Tess. See you in a bit." I utter to her hopefully, before leaving her in peace.

Running through the kitchen and into the heart of the house, I find the stairs easily. Climbing them two at a time, I soon reach the landing and find the second door on the left. I don't pause for thought as I charge into the door, expecting it to open when I push down on the handle. Bouncing back from the door when it doesn't, I curse to myself, pissed, that I seem to have stumbled at the very last hurdle.

Why in the hell is the door locked?

Before I can fret to much, the security sensor on the side door to the house beeps. It resounds around the quiet house like a siren and can only mean one thing. Christian, is home. Panic begins to curse through me at the thought of him finding me, loitering, at the top of the stairs, until I remember what I have in my pocket. Tugging Leila's car keys from my jeans, I fan them out quickly, despite my shaking fingers. My whole being sags with relief, when I spot the large, brass key that looks so out of place on the ring with the others.

While placing it swiftly into the lock, I pray. I pray that Christian has given Leila a key to this room and that this, is the right one. I don't have time to fish around, right now. I hear a footfall on the bottom of the stairs as thankfully, the key turns smoothly and the door swings open silently. With only seconds to spare, I slip inside, even managing to close the door behind me before Christian reaches the landing. Instinctively, my arm lifts and my hand begins to run blindly along the closest wall, looking for any source of light. I find the switch, just as I hear a door closing further down the hall.

As the room illuminates and appears in front of me, I gasp at the sight before me. Christian's playroom is beautiful, certainly not what I expected, but beautiful all the same. It's all deep, rich red walls and dark wooden furniture. It's also home to one of the biggest beds I've ever seen in my life. As my feet take me further into the alluring space, my eyes involuntarily roam. The wall closest to me is adorned with all manner of restraints, bindings, blindfolds, and there are hoods a plenty. There are a few basic toys hung and displayed. Paddles, floggers, a few things I don't recognized, but thankfully, nothing too penetrative or scary looking.

I feel a shiver run up my spine, but I don't think my nerves are the cause of it. I shock myself, with the sudden rush of arousal that sweeps my body and what images it stirs up in my mind. I want a taste of Christian. I want to experience first hand what Leila shared with us, and what happens in here. I want to feel the erotic, binding and blindness for myself. I want to feel what it's like to be in this room with Christian.

In the blink of an eye, and without further thought. I kick off my shoes, tug off my socks and rip myself free from my jeans. My fingers falter half way through unbuttoning my shirt as my mind clears and I catch sight of my bare limbs and exposed underwear. My hands drop to my side, hanging limply, and I know that I'm not as brave as I thought I was. What the hell am I doing? I don't even know this man, yet here I am, stripping naked and serving myself on a platter. I knew Kate was crazy for suggesting this. I'm even more so, for listening to her. Why on earth did I let her talk me into this?

I can't do this. I can't do it. I need to get out of here before he finds me because I've no idea what I'm doing, or what Christian will do or expect of me.

Keeping myself to myself and dedicating all my time to high school and college, left little time for friends, especially boyfriends. I've never done this before, never wanted to be with a man, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted Christian to be the first one to touch me. Kate joked as I left her earlier, and I secretly hoped, that Christian wouldn't realize I wasn't Leila until we were at least both naked, but I can't do it. No matter how much my body is tingling in anticipation at the thought of being with Christian, my head, is still somewhat in control.

I suddenly hear a door closing, causing my pulse to rise and pound in my ears. I hear footsteps pass by the door as my stomach rolls nauseously. A door opens and closes further down the hall, allowing me to catch a breath, but I realize that I'm pushing this and running out of time. As I dance about nervously on the spot, unsure of what in the hell I'm going to do, the seconds tick by quickly.

Christian, will no doubt take a quick shower because of his run, but has he had time to do that already? I have no idea how long I've been in here. Do I have time to redress and leave? My uncertainty is cut short as I hear footsteps heading my way. At that precise moment, I know my fate is decided for me.

"Oh hell, what's the worst that can happen?" I mutter Kates famous last words, while franticly, trying to pull myself together.

Deciding to leave my shirt on, I quickly open all the remaining buttons bar one. The one, holding me somewhat together. I feel less intimidated and a bit more in control being partially clothed, but I'm still feeling sick to my stomach with nerves. I hear a shuffling from the hallway causing my eyes to dart toward the door. He's here. I wait on baited breath for the door to open and for the crap to hit the fan.

After what feels like a life time but is in fact only a few seconds, I realise that Christian isn't outside the door. My eyes lower and my body lulls and I'm thankful for the reprieve and involuntary action. My eyes widen and my body stands to attention immediately, when I spot the small pillow on the floor by the door. Quickly recalling what Leila mentioned, I rush across the room.

"What in the hell do I do?" I whisper as I kneel myself down. My eyes begin to dart about the room nervously as I wait for him to enter. "Shit." I curse under my breath, when I remember that I'm not supposed to be able to look at him in here.

Jumping to my feet, I lunge myself at the display wall. I take hold of the first hood that my hand makes contact with, and without hesitation, I pull the black silk over my head. I kneel back down, thankful, that at the last minute I remembered Christian's strict rules. I take a series of deep, controlled breaths as I try to stop myself from hyperventilating under the dark, claustrophobic, rapidly dampening hood.

"What are you doing up here, Tess? Go back downstairs." Christian's amused voice suddenly reaches my ears.

Hearing Christian's surprised voice through the door, makes me smile. I ease a little, comforted and reassured, knowing Tess is close and that she's obviously followed me up here. It only lasts a few seconds though, because when I hear the door to this room open and close, my entire body stills and goes on full alert. My throat tightens as my breathing stops and I have no idea what to do. I grip my thighs with both my hands to keep me rooted to the spot. I'm waiting, terrified, for myself induced destruction.

Caught up in the solitary darkness, I can feel that my eyes are wide and bugged. Without my sight, my other senses are instantly heightened and ready. My ears prick up, when I hear Christian's footsteps padding softly past me. My body freezes as the goose bumps shiver and cover my body, when the air he stirred entering the room rushes over my bare thighs. My neck, unconsciously rises and arcs when my nose, even through the hood, picks up the scent of freshly showered Christian.

The room is eerily silent, apart from the pounding of my heart and his soft breathing. I feel vulnerable, exposed, more terrified than I've ever been, but I'm alive from head to toe with anticipation.

The minutes of silence tick by.

The sharp series of tsks that leave Christian's lips and break the silence, cause my spine to grow rigid. He's suddenly a lot closer to me than I expected and it takes all of my self control not to shoot to my feet and put an end to this madness. I gasp and instinctively flinch backwards, when I feel his fingers take hold of the front of my shirt and tug the material.

"Why are you wearing this? There's no need for your modesty in here, you know that. Remove it." Christian orders, his tone deep and authoritative.

I hesitate, unsure of whether to reply or not, because he'll know instantly I'm not Leila if I do. I'm only seconds away from running out of here, but physically, I don't think I can. My heart is thumping erratically with the exhilaration of the unknown, but my feet feel heavy and planted, holding me firmly in place.

"I don't like repeating myself. Stand up and take it off." Christian snaps impatiently. I jump and comply, automatically reacting to his tone.

When his hand leaves the front of my shirt, I attempt to stand. My legs feel weak from kneeling and I can't help but wobble. Christian's hand, immediately finds and supports my elbow and he doesn't let go of me until I'm steady on my feet. I feel the heat from his palm through the cotton of my shirt and the spark it generates as it travels rapidly throughout my body. It lingers, even after his hand has left me and I know he felt it too, because he gasped, with what sounded like surprise and annoyance, just before he let me go.

"Are you wearing this... so I'll punish you?" Christian asks. His voice is low, irritated and very close to my ear.

I stand stock still as I sense Christian slowly circling me, only breathing, when I hear him moving away from me. I can't pinpoint where he is in the room now, or what he's doing, and truthfully, this would be very erotic if I wasn't so petrified and unsure right now.

"Answer me, Leila." he orders sternly.

Hearing Christian speak Leila's name and the tone he's using with her, causes me to flinch. It quickly brings me out of the stimulating haze I'm falling into and induces a wave of panic that I can't control. I can't keep up this pretence any longer. This has to end. I can't let this go any further. Christian has a way with Leila. A cold, calculated, restricted way, and I want more than that from my first time of being with a man. I want more than that from Christian.

Decision made, I take a few steps away from the muffled sounds I can hear and pull the hood from my head. Wisps of my hair lift with the static and my face feels clammy after being covered for so long. My hands run over my head and sweep the sheen from my face as my eyes adjust in the low light. Christian, has dimmed the lights, set a mood and I have no idea what to do or how I'm going to get out of here.

Christian, is directly across the room from me, adjacent to the door. He has his back to me, with an arm stretching, reaching upward, taking a leather flogger from the display on the wall. I can't find my voice, I'm captivated just watching him. My eyes, control every part of me, keeping me rigid as they travel up and down his body.

His hair, is untamed, still damp from his recent shower. His back, shoulders and arms, are toned, muscular and lightly tanned. His feet... are bare. He's a vision, because all he's wearing is a pair of old, well worn, blue jeans.

As my eyes begin to take a more conscious and detailed sweep of him, they get no further than his shoulder blades. When I finally notice the scars he carries on his body, my teeth bite painfully into my bottom lip to control my gasp. The tarnished, contorted, painful looking skin, radiates out from his upper spine. It curls around the swell of both his shoulders and inches up the back of his neck like tentacles. My eyes take in every inch of his permanently marked skin as my heart bleeds for what I put him through. I can't control the sympathetic, remorseful whimper that leaves the back of my throat.

The involuntary sound carries easily around the silent room, alerting Christian immediately.

He spins round quickly to investigate the noise and when our eyes lock, the shock on his face is instant. Once it registers that it's not Leila locked in this room with him, he stands tall, his whole demeanour becomes defensive. He drops the flogger that he has in his hand and the sound of it hitting the floor echoes around the room. His eyes burn into mine as the situation sinks in and hits him full force. I hold my breath, caught up in his glare, waiting for the inevitable.

Despite his mouth opening once or twice as if to speak, he surprises me by remaining silent as an array of emotions run across his face. After a few moments, his eyes begin to soften as his initial anger slowly recedes and is taken over by something new. His eyes widen and he shakes his head minutely as he just gapes at me.

As Christian takes a curious step forward, I take an involuntary step back. I don't feel I can trust myself being so close to him while wearing so little. I need to keep some distance between us, because God only knows what could happen if I don't. This room, this man, his entire situation, has an enticing effect on me and despite Kate's urgings on how good this could be, I don't think this encounter will or should, lead to that.

I mirror his small steps until the back of my knees hit the bed and I fall backwards onto the mattress. Quickly shuffling, I lift myself so that I'm resting on my elbows, and just wait for Christian to gather himself. I'm waiting for the screaming, shouting and outrageous disbelief, but truthfully, it looks like he's about to pass out.

It's not the response I was expecting.

Laying in front of Christian, all bare limbs and with my mid-drift and underwear exposed, I can't find it in myself to be embarrassed. My eyes watch his bodies every move, and it's a pleasant distraction from what I know is coming. His body is muscular, clearly defined and temptingly taut. His chest and rippling abs are free from any blemishes or scars. I wouldn't know he had any at all if they didn't just peak over his shoulders. His back clearly took the brunt of the flames. Tess, being in his arms saved his chest, but at her own expense.

While I'm blatantly perusing Christian, his eyes trail over me slowly. I can feel his hot gaze rake over every inch of my exposed skin. He's transfixed and seems as lost in me as I am in him. When our eyes both lift at the same time, I feel myself shiver as I feel the electricity spark and crackle between us. I hold his gaze and watch, as the shock, the fear, and wonderment of recognition cross his face.

"You... You're the girl from the coffee shop." Christian finally utters, his voice soft and uncertain.

I nod minutely, happy that he recognises me but a little disheartened that he doesn't see me for who I really am.

"How did.. what are..." Christian begins to mutter as he takes his final step to reach me.

I lift myself so I'm sitting upright, my legs hanging over the edge of the bed, my feet a few inches off the floor. I hold my self firm and try not to be distracted by his closeness and the scent emitting from him as he closes the gap between us. But it's very intoxicating, and completely distracting.

"I'm sorry I had to do this... I just needed to..." I begin, but my voice drifts off as my eyes are drawn and captivated by the rise and fall of his chest. My arm lifts, my hand, by its own accord, reaching out to touch him. Christian, curses loudly as he takes a large step back from me, clearly appalled by what I was about to do.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He snaps, clearly frustrated and suddenly fuming. "How did you get in here? What the fuck do you think you're doing in my house?" he rants as his expected anger rises.

"Christian, I'm sorry, I just need to..." I try again to explain. His loud angry questioning of me, quickly pulling me out of the stupor his body had put me in.

"You need to leave." he growls, taking hold of my outstretched arm firmly by the wrist.

"No, please I..."

"Be thankful I'm not calling the police." he snaps, pulling me from the bed and towing me towards the door.

Despite the heat and growing spark I can feel from his hand on me, I know I've blown it and he's throwing me out. Leila spoke constantly about his aversion to being touched and how he hates people looking at him. I've broken all his safe guards and put him on an uneven keel. I understand how angry I've made him and know I've ruined my chances of talking to him properly. Fuck.

It's now or never.

"Christian, please, just give me a minute... I need to talk to you." I state desperately, as we reach the bedroom door without my realising.

He turns to face me and an uncontrollable pained expression flits across his face. "What can you possibly have to talk to me about? I apologized for scalding you..." he states with annoyance, quickly looking away.

"I know you did, and that's not why I'm here. I needed to talk to you, to explain who I am and to thank you..." I tell him urgently as we leave the room and step out onto the landing.

"Thank me? For what." he interrupts me with a aggravated snarl. Glancing at me from over his shoulder, his strides don't falter as he pulls me along with him towards the stairs.

Knowing I can't waste this opportunity, or leaving here without telling him who I am, I dig my heels in and take hold of the stair rail with my free hand. Gripping it tightly, I lean back and pull against him with all my might for the first time. He jerks to a stop and turns to face me with shocked, angry eyes.

"Christian, please, just listen to me. I have to tell you something." I literally beg, and even though his eyes are still cold, he cocks an eyebrow at me as if to say, you have five minutes. Suddenly being put on the spot makes me nervous and I don't know where to start.

"I've wanted to talk to you for so long." I manage to say, before the need to clear my throat. "I wanted to explain who I was when I spoke to you on the beach with Tess, but..."

"That, was you?" Christian interrupts me. His tone strained and disbelieving. I nod slowly.

"You also knocked me over while out running, and had me thrown out of your building." I add softly, attempting to smile at him and lighten things.

Christian's eyes widen and fill with pain. "It was you, every time?" he whispers. "You, are the girl that's been...everywhere...tormenting me?" he asks. I simply nod. "You, are the girl...staying at the beach house?" he asks, his voice breaking painfully.

"Yes." I confirm, with a comforting smile and a small step forward.

I watch as his body grow rigid as he squares himself and stands taller. He takes a step away from me and lets go of me like I'm on fire. When his hand leaves me, my skin, feels cold and bereft instantly. His face contorts and is filled with so much anger and pain that it stuns me. His hands fly into his hair and he grips and tugs the damp strands as he begins to mutter angrily to himself.

I stand there staring at him as he begins pacing across the small landing, just waiting for him to explode. I know that this is it, he's going to realise what I've done to get here and throw me out. I have to act quickly.

"Thank you, for saving my life." I whisper, and as the silence engulfs us both, I wait for his eye to meet mine.

When they do, I raise my hands and pull open my shirt, not caring that I'm just in my underwear. Christian's eyes lower from mine as he takes me all in, and I know the second he sees my scar and makes the connection. His entire body slumps forward, the breath is forced out of him in a pain filled gush and his wide, unbelieving eyes begin to water.

"Ana?" he questions me unbelievingly, but expectantly.

I mouthe the word, "Yes." Then gasp, when without warning, he drops like a stone and lands on his knees in front of me.

The agony I feel from his one word plea and the sight of him broken in front of me, causes my heart to break and my body to physically buckle and follow him to the floor.

"Christian." Is all I'm able to say, before I'm on my knees in front of him and the breathe is completely drawn out of me.

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	31. Chapter 31 - Overwhelmed

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Chapter Thirty One.

Overwhelmed

 _ **Christian.**_

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The girl, that has tortured me for so long, slumps to her knees in front of me. Her beautiful blue eyes lock with mine and I can't think straight. Visions invade and blind me as I try to reckon the impossible, like I've been trying to do for the past ten minutes, but it's futile. It's incomprehensible. For all this time, for all these years, I thought she was dead. I thought I'd killed her, yet here she is sitting in front of me. Living, breathing, nearly naked...here.

"Ana...it's really...you?" I manage to ask.

Subtly, I try and take in every inch of her without her realising. She's all svelte, shapely limbs and soft, perfect looking skin. She's just like I envisioned in my dreams, but more so. She's grown into a true beauty.

"Yes." She whispers softly. A small smile plays on her lips as her eyes light up, and my whole body eases with relief and utter disbelief at the sight of her.

My eyes are pulled and lower to the gap in her open shirt, resting, on the permanent reminder I left on her skin. The pink indentation, sitting on the swell of her breast, is so close to her heart it's not even an inch away. It truly is a miracle how she survived.

"I can't believe you're here. I can't comprehend how it's...you. I killed you." The words leave my tight throat unhindered.

Ana shakes her head at me in dispute and denial and I'm stunned. I can't believe she's here. Not to mention the extremes she went to in order to get my attention. I'll push that thought aside for now, I've enough to think about. I can't fathom how she's alive and not the apparition that's been haunting me constantly. Even though she was...is. I can't believe that the girl I've been seeing everywhere, the girl I've been recently looking for, is really Ana. My Ana. My head swims with confusion and doubts, but strangely, my fingers itch to touch her.

As I become more aware of her proximity, I can feel it, and I should've known. My reaction to her during our every encounter was far too extreme to be coincidental. She was so familiar looking, so much like the girl I remember, and all along, it _was_ her. I think back to all the times I saw her and with the adornment of caps, sunglasses and her veil of chestnut hair between us, it was easy to be oblivious. I should've known that no one else could look like her though, or stir up such emotion in me, but why would I even consider that my tormenting ghost...was the real Ana?

I thought she was dead. I believed she was dead. I knew she was dead.

I can't help myself and need to confirm all of this is somehow real, and not some final mental breakdown. Watching her closely to gage her reaction, I reach out and take hold of her hand. My body ripples as soon as I make contact with her warm skin. Our fingers involuntarily entwine and her smile grows as our fingers tighten round each others. A glorious flush of colour floods her cheeks and I can't help but lift her chin with my finger until she's looking at me fully.

"I thought you died that night, Ana." I whisper, my voice portraying all the pain I've carried with me for so long. "I thought I killed you. You'd lost so much blood, I saw your last breath leave you and I.."

"I thought you died, too." Ana interrupts, her voice breaking, and I know at that precise moment, even without her eyes welling up with tears, that she's felt the same torment as I have for all of these years. "I heard the explosion, saw you fly through the air caught up with the flames... I heard you scream." she adds before her voice begins to break. "I woke up in the hospital and no one knew anything about you. Everyone I asked told me the same thing, no one else was brought in...not alive anyway. Where were you?" she asks in a pained whisper.

"I was taken to the burns unit in Seattle." I explain, softly squeezing her hand.

"I've tortured myself, hated myself for hurting you and ending your life." She confesses freely.

My chest tightens at the thought of what she's been through. Her agonising past mirrors mine. If it's been half as bad for her as it has been for me, then...well, I don't want to consider it. No wonder I didn't recognise her from the file Taylor gave me. Her pain was clear on her young face. She was half the woman then that she is now.

Unable to stop myself from reacting to the pain I know she's felt, or the fact that I'm responsible for it, I free my hand and gently brush the solitary tear that's fallen from her cheek with my thumb. She sighs softly to herself and her eyes drop closed when my hand lingers close to her skin. I feel the need to comfort her but I'm unsure of what to do.

"Me too, every single day." I utter softly.

"I thought I'd gotten you killed trying to save Tess. I'm so glad she's still with you." Ana breathes, as she arcs her face into my touch.

"I couldn't let her go." I tell her truthfully. "She's a part of you." I whisper, opening my hand to accept her cheek.

"I couldn't let you go." She admits with a soft blush. I smile, feeling content, when the heat from her skin warms my palm. "You've been in my thoughts, my dreams, my every nightmare for years. I can't remember a single night of sleeping peacefully or not seeing you whenever I've closed my eyes." Ana admits.

"Me too. I haven't been able to rest since that night, I've dreaded closing my eyes. Now, my eyes are wide open and you're here, alive. I.. how did..." I begin to ask. Suddenly curious as to how she found me, not to mention how she got herself into my house.

"I didn't know you'd survived." Ana interrupts, clearly eager to explain.

She shuffles and shifts her position so she's more comfortable on her knees. Her adjustment, causes my hand to fall from her cheek and I feel the loss instantly. My other hand tightens on hers in her lap because I'll be damned if I lose our connection all together. She's the only thing keeping me grounded right now. I feel like at any moment this could all be too much, and I need her close.

"I had no idea you were alive, not until I saw the flowers you left up at the crash site." Ana continues, squeezing my fingers in with what feels like gratitude for my tribute.

I snort to myself. I knew all along that going up there had triggered something. I just never thought it was the girl herself that had left the starting blocks to shadow and chase me home.

I should have known.

"Even though I was told that I was the only survivor, I always hoped, always prayed, that you didn't lose your life that night. Once I saw the card you left I knew, I knew you were alive. You don't know how I felt at that moment, Christian. I didn't pause to think, I was so elated and just knew I had to find you. It was a sign." Ana gushes and I understand fully because I feel it too. An enormous weight has surely been lifted from me today.

I stare into Ana's wide excited eyes and I still can't believe she's truly here. I can see her, smell her intoxicating scent, even feel her hand in mine, but somehow, this still seems so surreal. It's like I'm waiting for my eyes to open. Waiting for her to disappear.

I'm stuck, as to what to say in return or even attempt to tell her how I feel. I know I'm beyond thankful that this beautiful woman lived and had a chance at a life. I know that I've a draw, a pull, a connection to her, but where does that leave us now?

As I've drifted along with my thoughts, I've been unaware that Ana's eyes have been roaming all over me. I suddenly feel very exposed and out of place sat here on the landing, dressed only in my jeans. I can see, almost feel, the burn of her gaze as it follow the trails of gnarled flesh over my shoulders and up my neck. No one, has ever been this close to me, or studied me this closely. Not since I was younger and back in the hospital. As her eyes move, her free hand begins to lift.

"Don't." I utter softly, causing Ana to jump slightly. It seems to pull her out of the trance she's under and it causes her eyes to lift to mine, clear, then grow wide and quizzical. "I hate my scars." I state simply.

"I love mine." Ana surprises me by saying.

"Why?" I ask. Shocked, that she doesn't despise the permanent mar I left on her skin.

I can't help but glance down at the scar on her chest. My fingers, like hers, yearn to touch. Ana, must feel the flinch of my hand because she suddenly takes it and places it flat on her chest. I gasp, locking my eyes with hers as she holds my palm flush against her.

"This scar...reminds me of you." she utters, looking deep into my eyes. I feel her heartbeat quicken under my palm as a smile takes over her face. "Everyday I see it, and it reminds me of the courageous boy that saved my life. I see your bravery, your strength, your fearlessness and compassion in this scar." She states.

I feel my shoulders sag at her appraisal of my actions, I'm so unworthy of that assessment. I know my scars don't carry the same comparison. Not at all. They're vulgar, grotesque, sickening.

I need to put on a shirt.

"I'm so sorry you were hurt saving Tess." Ana whispers, and as her hand leaves mine on her chest and rises, I don't make any attempt to stop her this time.

With my breath held, I allow my eyes to drop closed. The texture of my pulled, melted flesh under her hand, will soon repulse her. I don't want to see the look on her face when it does. When I feel her fingers brush my cheek and sweep down and hook around the back of my neck, my first instinct is to flinch and pull away from her, but the sensation of her fingers on my skin is soothing, and rapidly addictive. After only a few second, I find myself leaning into her with a deep contented breath. Secretly hoping, that she'll continue to touch me freely.

I've dreamed about being touched, held, encased in warmth and love. I've always wanted arms around me, I just never thought they could, or would, be Ana's. I still can't believe she's real. I open my eyes just to check, and it takes a second or two for them to focus on the beauty in front of me. I stare at her, holding her gaze as I try to comprehend how this night has transpired and how she even got here.

"How did you get in here?" I ask curiously.

Ana makes a groaning sound as her hands leave me and cover her shame ridden face. She sits up straighter, her movement, forcing my hand to slip from her chest and fall into my lap. I curse myself silently for opening my mouth and breaking our connection. My curiosity begins to grow as Ana's cheeks begin to flame and she becomes agitated. What's the matter with her? Did she do more than just break in?

"Oh, Christian. I'm so sorry I came into your house uninvited like this. Please, don't be angry with Leila." She begs, looking up at me with wide pleading eyes. She bites her lip nervously, but it doesn't register, because as soon as she speaks Leila's name, my heckles rise and my stomach drops.

Fuck, I've completely forgotten about Leila.

When Ana removed the hood she was wearing and I saw that she wasn't in fact Leila, she completely left my head. I haven't given her a second thought since. I feel my eyes widen at the thought of how Leila could be involved in this, and my brow furrows when I consider what Ana knows about my relationship with her. How does she even know Leila, anyway? And where the fuck is she.

"Leila?" I ask, wary of hearing this explanation.

Ana's whole demeanour becomes submissive as she slumps lower on her knees. Her eyes are contrite when they meet mine and before I can even ask again, she's gushing.

"Once I found out you were alive, I came straight here. When I found you, I tried to contact you anyway I could, but you're a hard man to get close to, Christian." she says with sudden humour. Her body easing as she rolls her eyes and chuckles.

I force a rigid smile, unsure of what to say in return. I'm waiting to find out how Leila fits into all of this. Nothing else seems important right now.

"We met while out jogging." Ana continues, rubbing her elbow. "You split my hot chocolate, and then dismissed me from Grey House. I know I was lucky enough to bump into you accidentally, but each time I did, it was so unexpected that I just froze. I couldn't get a word out. Remember?" She asks me, all wide eyed and eager for confirmation.

I nod, knowing exactly how she felt, because I had the same reaction too. Just a passing glimpse of her would make my stomach roll and the feelings she induced were immense and so overpowering. Even now, confusion and doubt aside, I'm terrified, but I'm also elated that she's here. I'm also elated that I'm not going crazy, or hallucinating, like I initially thought.

"I wish you would've said something to me." I mutter out loud, thinking over the torment I've been going through over the past few weeks and how it could've all been avoided.

"I wanted to, believe me, but your reaction was a mirror image of mine. Every time you saw me, you freaked, and you're very intimidating when you're angry, Christian." Ana states before giggling.

I don't feel very intimidating right now.

"Plus," Ana continues. "In my defence, you never really gave me a chance, by the time I'd gathered my faculties enough for speech, you'd gone. You couldn't get away from me fast enough." Ana concludes truthfully with a sad smile and a small shrug.

She's right. Everything she's said is right. I did run, every single time. I had to.

"I thought you were a ghost, an apparition, sent to haunt and torment me." I tell her honestly, feeling so fucking foolish right now. Ana nods her head compassionately, understanding.

"It probably did feel like I was hounding you. I tried everything I could think of to get near you. Once I found out who and where you were, I used every opportunity I could to get close to you. Hence, why I'm staying down the way... It was nice, talking to you on the beach the other day. I wanted to tell you then who I was, but I knew I wouldn't be able to do it. I didn't want to freeze up, I didn't want you to run, I wanted to get to know you and that's why I kept quiet." she says softly, and her hand once again lifts and cups the back of my neck comfortingly.

I reclaim her other hand back from her lap, holding it tightly in mine.

"You could've just called me." I mutter stupidly. Knowing how hard it is to get through to me at Grey House, never mind obtaining my cell number, but I'm distracted by her slow moving fingers on the nape of my neck. Ana chuckles and rolls her eyes at me, completely oblivious to what she's doing to me with such a simple action.

"Oh, if only it could've been that simple." she mutters before giggling. "I needed to talk to you face to face, Christian." she says, suddenly looking very serious. "Telling you something this important couldn't have been done over the phone...would you even have believed me?" she ask softly.

"You have a point." I chuff, because she's right once again. Even if she had of gotten through to speak to me, I would never have entertained her. Not without seeing her, anyway.

"I tried to get close to you, anyway I could." Ana mutters, and it sounds like there's more to this than I'm aware of.

"Tell me." I whisper, and her cheeks flood once again with colour. "Start at the beginning."

My eyes follow her growing blush as it sweeps the apple of her cheek slowly. It's enticing and totally captivating. She really is kind of beautiful. Ana's eyes widen and grow more wary the longer I look at her.

"Please, please don't think I'm some sort of crazy person once I tell you. Okay?" she asks sheepishly, as she shuffles on her knees to get comfortable.

I feel her fingers on my neck move and can't help but shiver as they run up into the back of my hair. It's a very enthralling feeling and I'm immediately disappointed when her hand moves on. It doesn't leave me, though. It trails over my shoulder, down my arm to my hand, were it meets her other one. I nod automatically, not caring what she has to say. Her fingers feel amazing trailing over my skin so no matter what she could possibly tell me, I probably won't hear half of it. She's here, in front of me. Living, breathing, speaking to me. That's enough for now. I've realised that I don't care how she got here. Just that she is.

"I went to Grey House, thinking I could make an appointment with you, but your receptionist wouldn't even pick up the phone. When I tried to insist, she had security throw me out." she explains, and I feel the embarrassment radiating from her as she looks down at our joined hands in her lap.

"Sorry." I whisper. Not knowing what else to say. Ana shakes her head and chuckles at me.

"It's fine." She says offhandedly, but I see an edge to her eyes for just a second and I think there's more to it than she's letting on.

I can't linger on it though, I'm far to aware of my hands in her lap. I'm holding her hands in mine, but her free thumb is running slowly back and forth across the back of one of my hands. My other hand, is being tormented by the feel and heat emitting from her warm, soft, bare thigh. The back of my hand rests, just where her shirt ends.

Seeing her dressed in so little is becoming...distracting. Very distracting. I try to keep my eyes firmly on her face and ignore the fact that I'm half dressed myself right now. As much as I'd like to insist we both adorn clothes, I don't want to move and interrupt what we're sharing.

"I've spent a lot of time at Grey House. Hoping I'd see you there." Ana says, as her eyes lift slowly back to mine. "I love your book shop, I've spent hours in there." She gushes. A bright enthusiastic smile taking over her face.

I share it, knowing she's telling the truth. I've seen her in there with my own two eyes, and if I'm not mistaken, I've seen her in every other corner of Grey House too.

"You've also joined my Gym, play the guitar, and we both know that you like hot chocolate." I add, thinking of all the times her ghost was with me. Ana nods, smiling, obviously glad that I remember her.

"Grey House its self, gave me the most opportunities to meet you. Working in the building might've gotten me a little closer, but someone kicked my ass to the curb." Ana says, clearly teasing by her tone, but her choice of words still hit me hard and I feel like a complete shit.

"I'm truly sorry about that. Would you like a job in the book store instead? You'd be happy there." I offer without thought, picturing her in my minds eye sitting in the window enraptured with the book she's holding. I chuckle to myself when her face lights up.

"Oh, don't temp me." she replies quickly.

"But I want too." I reply before I can censor myself.

Ana's eyes flash to mine before she bites her lip and lowers them. A flush runs down her neck to the swell of her breasts and my eyes are drawn. Ana begins to fidget when she notices and I feel the tension growing between us.

"I hope Taylor didn't literally do that to you?" I ask her, trying to defuse the atmosphere and hide my perverted slip.

Ana shakes her head as she sighs heavily. "No, Taylor was polite in his eviction, but..." Ana pauses as she looks up at me dubiously. I can't help frowning. What did Taylor do?

"What happened?" I ask, slowly.

"Nothing happened." Ana says quickly. "But I did speak to him...I told him about us, about what happened."

Her confession surprises me and I feel my eyes widen. It shocks me, that Taylor knew more than what Gail could have shared with him, and yet he kept it to himself. Saying that, I did dismiss and shoot him down, every time he tried to mention anything about Ana or my crazy behaviour.

"I'm so sorry, Christian." Ana gushes apologetically. "I wanted to tell you before him, but he wouldn't let me near you. Not until I told him who I was and what I wanted with you. I thought he'd help me meet you, but I..."

"It's fine Ana, don't worry. It explains a lot." I interrupt her, squeezing her hand to calm her down.

"It does?" Ana asks with a quirk of her eyebrow. I can't help smile at her quizzical expression.

"Yes. He asked me if I knew you and if I'd seen you before. He used the pretence of how you could be a breach to security and..."

"Why didn't you tell him about seeing me?" she asks, looking and sounding a little hurt.

"Ana, I thought you were dead. I thought I was tripping on guilt ridden images of you because I'd opened up old wounds by going up to the crash site. I was in no state to talk to him then, especially about you."

"Oh, Christian." Ana coos, freeing her hand from mine and brushing my cheek comfortingly. My eyes close at the warmth from her touch and I have the sudden urge to hold her. "I'm sorry I've caused you so much pain." Ana whispers as her body sags forward, unintentionally, bringing her closer to me. "I don't just mean recently, either." She adds, and her voice sounds so remorseful.

Before I can reply, Ana's hand runs from my cheek and down the back of my neck. I react on impulse and take hold of her hips, pulling her forward into my lap. She doesn't freeze or try to pull away, she just reacts right along with me. Her eyes close with a contented sigh as her arms wrap around my neck and mine, wrap around her waist.

The feel of her warm, soft body pressed tightly against my chest is almost euphoric, but I can't relax. My body shudders reflexively, when her arms relax and wrap over my shoulders encasing me. I feel myself stiffen as I wait. The feel of her hands, one in my hair and one flat on my spine, holds my body rigid.

I can't breathe. I can't move. I'm just holding on tightly.

After a few moments, I assess the feel of Ana, warm in my lap. She's willing close, feels at ease. Is offering, and finding comfort with me, but I'm waiting. I'm waiting for the rigid, horrified, repulsed response she'll have to me, once her brain registers what her left hand is touching.

I wait and wait, but it's only when I hear Ana, whisper close to my ear that I can really appreciate the feel of this girl in my arms.

"I'm not a security breach, I promise, but Taylor was pissed when I told him that I'd even met Gail." she says. Her words vibrate off my neck. I shiver, at the feel of her warm breath so close to my skin. "I believe my goulash was a success." she says before giggling against me. Her movements and words are suddenly confusing the hell out of me and I have no idea what she's on about.

"What?" I mumble, trying to sort through this complete and utter sensory overload I'm in the middle of.

No one, has ever been this close to me before or touched me so freely. No one, has ever touched me like this without hesitation or revulsion. Or Pity. My arms tighten around Ana's frame involuntarily as hers do.

"Nothing." Ana giggles as she molds herself into me.

The next few minutes pass in warmth, naked limbs and warmth. I can't help but let my mind wander to how this would feel if we matched up. If she wasn't wearing a shirt or if I was just wearing my shorts, the heat would be immense. It's astounding how I can feel her, her warmth, her heartbeat, even though there's a barrier between us.

Except for her hands. Which are both moving.

Ana's fingers on one hand are scrunching in my hair. Her nails, raking my scalp as they move. Her others, are following the rise and falling patterns of damaged skin on my neck and shoulder. I hold still, apart from my neck, which follows the movement of her softly, trailing fingers. It's heavenly.

Ana is the first to move and as she sits back on my thighs, not seeming to mind that she's straddling my lap, both her hands lock together behind my neck. My hands trail to each of her hips, where they remain while Ana takes a deep determined breath. She looks at me, suddenly seeming apprehensive and looking very contrite and only then do I realise that she's still talking.

"So, after exhausting all avenues to get to you, I was left with only one option...befriending Leila." Ana says her name once again and I hear her shame and remorse.

Leila, yes this is how this conversation started. Fuck Leila.

I'm still too distracted by the fact she's straddling my thighs, in a shirt and holding my bare skin to think clearly. Especially about Leila. Ana looks at me warily, waiting for me to say something. When I don't respond, she must take my silence as annoyance or anger because she begins to gush apologetically.

"I'm so sorry Christian, it was the only chance I had left. I know I've invaded your privacy and..."

"Where is she?" I interrupt, dubiously.

My eyes lift back to Ana's, looking for an explanation. A feeling of dread washes over me.

"Leila's...sleeping," Ana explains, her voice low and rueful. "Her roommate Kate and I, we...we got her drunk and coerced information out of her before she passed out, so...I could take her place." she mumbles swiftly, all the while avoiding my scowl and missing my panicked gaze.

How much does Ana know about my arrangement with Leila?

My eyes lose focus as I think of what Leila could've told her while inebriated. I don't pause to think about what Ana's done to get her in that state. I just pray that Leila held her tongue about what goes on in my playroom. Suddenly, all the shock and euphoria I've been feeling is pushed aside as the pieces come together.

I know without even having to ask Ana, that she already knows more than I'd ever want her too.

She drove Leila's car here, let herself in, she even knew where to go once inside the house. I recognize the shirt she's wearing as belonging to Leila and oh, fuck... She was kneeling... she even has her hair braided.

She knows everything.

"Don't be angry with her, please. It wasn't her fault, and I'm so sorry to ruin your night with her." Ana gushes suddenly, glancing toward the door of my playroom.

She blushes, beautifully, but I'm sickened by what she must be thinking of in order to redden so deeply.

"Don't worry about Leila. I was going to end things with her this evening." I state truthfully.

Wanting her to know that what I've had with Leila, is now over, and desperately trying to banish the pictures from her head, I repeat myself to be certain. Ana nods her head minutely in understanding, her eyes turning soft as she does.

"Leila was expecting it and I feel awful. She should be the one here with you..."

"No." I stress, shaking my head adamantly.

Despite the initial terror, confusion and disbelief, Ana being here now, if only for this night, means more to me than all my past weekends with Leila. Doesn't she know that?

"She loves you, you know." Ana says quietly, her tone knowing and sympathetic.

I tsk at her comment and misplaced loyalty. She's so far off the mark. Leila, doesn't love me. She only thinks she does because of who I am, what I have and what I can give her. Her lines have blurred into infatuation because she knows she's my longest submissive, and thinks that actually means something. Don't get me wrong, she has been a good submissive but she's far from perfect.

Perfect, is sat on my lap. Something Leila has never done. Not outside my playroom anyway.

"Don't you...love, Leila?" Ana suddenly mutters, and I feel her hands tighten on my neck.

"No, Ana. I don't love Leila and she doesn't love me. We have, had, an arrangement, nothing more."

"She meant nothing to you?" she questions further sounding curious, but her voice is full of empathy for Leila.

I shake my head, wanting to be as honest as I can. Ana looks at me closely, looking for more. But what can I say? How can I explain that Leila served a purpose, nothing more, nothing less. How can I tell Ana, that Leila was only ever a substitute for her. She was only every here to appease my need to be close to the girl I thought I'd lost.

"You never loved her?" Ana repeats.

"No, I've never loved anyone. Family aside. I've never had a proper relationship, never wanted one." I tell her simply.

"Why not?" she asks, looking at me like I've grown an extra head.

"I've never wanted to get close to anybody. I can't bear to be touched, I hate people looking at me." I admit.

My stomach knots because I'm still bare chested in front of her. Ana stiffens in my lap as her hands begin to loosen in order to free herself. I grip her hips, holding her still, shaking my head at her.

"Don't move." I instruct.

She's staying where she is. No matter how terrifying it feels.

Her smile is small and sweet as her fingers absentmindedly begin to caress the back of my neck again. It's such a small action, her fingers are barely moving, but it feels wonderful and I don't want her to stop. Ever.

"I don't know how you can bear to look at me, never mind touch me. I'm repulsive." I say out loud without thinking.

Ana stiffens and looks at me with sharp eyes. "No, you're not. You're brave, heroic and you carry that reminder with you. Be proud of yourself, I'm proud of you." she states adamantly, and her words floor me again.

I sag forward, my head coming to rest on her breast bone. "I'm so thankful you're alive, Annie." I whisper into her chest.

I want to pull her closer. Kiss her flesh. Kiss and caress her scar, but Ana gasps sharply and I pull back quickly. My eyes fly to hers and I see they're wide and pained. Shit. She's not mine to touch. I've completely over stepped the mark and read to much into this situation.

"I'm sorry." I apologies. Putting a little space between us.

"No it's fine, no one but my father ever called me Annie. It surprises me everytime I hear it that's all." she explains, relaxing once again.

"Why not? Your name is Ana." I mutter stupidly, relieved that she's upset by my words and not by my touch or my getting closer to her.

"My name isn't Ana, it's Anastasia." she says with a chuckle. My eyes widen, pleasantly surprised. It suits her. Her name is unique. Just like her.

"Anastasia Rose Steele, pleasure to meet you." Ana says with a wide smile as she pulls her hand from my neck and offers it to me to shake.

I take it quickly, buzzed at the feel of her. "Hi Anastasia. I'm Christian, Christian Trevelyan Grey."

"I never knew your full name." she says, chuckling and wrapping her hand back around my neck.

"Then how did you find me?" I ask, curiously.

"Old Ben, saw you at the crash sight." Ana explains. "I'm so thankful that he did. I would have gone crazy not..."

"Old Ben." I mutter, thinking back to that day

"Yes, he's a local guy. He has a couple of huskies, like Tess." Ana adds, and I nod, remembering him.

I frown to myself, tuning Ana out as I think of that day and how I felt being back at that spot. I remember fleeing as soon as the old guy tried to make conversation with me. If only I'd have spoken to him properly. I no doubt would've found out that Ana was alive sooner.

Tuning back in to Ana's excited voice, I find she's still explaining.

"Ben, gave me a description of you and your car, and even before I read the card you'd left with your flowers, I knew it was you. I came to Seattle the very next day looking for you, but I had nowhere to start. Do you know how many Christian's there are in Seattle?" she asks me chuckling and rolling her eyes. I nod dumbly. "I didn't know you were some big mogul, not until I hired a Private Investigator and he got me your background information. He also found out your schedule info and..." Ana's voice drifts off as I feel my blood run cold.

"You've had some one investigating me?" I interrupt her sharply, despite my dry, tightening throat. Ana nods immediately, clearly not hearing my tone.

"Yes, that's how I met Gail, Taylor and found out about Leila. He also arrange the job interview for me. He even..." her excited voice drifts off as the horror grows and sets firmly on my face.

The shock of my privacy being invaded feels like the final blow and I need some space. I can't think straight with her so close to me. How can I... Ana feels my sudden agitation and shifts herself backwards, moving away from me. Her face looks horrified and she's clearly upset.

"I'm sorry, I know it seems like I'm some mad stalker but I promise you, I'm not. I didn't know what else to do and Will was discrete, he knows your family and..."

"No, I understand." I manage to say clearly, interrupting her. Not really listening and not wanting to hear anymore. "It's just a bit...overwhelming."

Too much has come to light to soon and far too much all at once. I don't know where to start with the thought process on all of this. I just know that I need to breathe. This entire night has been overwhelming, an array of unfamiliar feelings and emotions, with revelations and discoveries that I never thought possible. As much as I've loved being close to Ana, I need some space. I can't think around her.

I need to get out of here.

Sliding Ana from my lap, so she's back sitting on the floor. I shuffle away from her and ready myself to stand. As Ana would say, I'm freaked. Unsure of what to do or say about any of this, I'm best saying nothing. My mind starts to race over what I've discovered tonight and Ana beside, I can't comprehend that everyone around me knew.

The atmosphere is turning cold, tense, awkward, and I feel like I'm suffocating.

I can't bring myself to look at Ana, but I can feel her eyes on me. I can sense her distress and upset from her heated gaze. I can still feel her touch on the back of my neck. The weight of her on my thighs. The feel of her skin on my palms. It's strange. New. And not something I'm yet familiar with. I need to clear my head. Shake her off so I can breathe and think clearly.

"I think I'll take Tess out." I mutter as I stand and head away from her.

"Christian, please. I'm sorry." Ana calls after me, but I don't turn around. I don't acknowledge that I've even heard her.

I try not to think of her, slumped in a shirt at the top of the stairs, looking lost and hurt as I head down the stairs, through the kitchen and head out of the house onto the beach.

I try not to think of her for the next hour as I trudge the cool sand in the dark.

Without, the company of Tess.

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	32. Chapter 32 - Hindsight

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Chapter Thirty Two.

Hindsight.

 _ **Ana.**_

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He left me. Alone. Sitting on the landing at the top of the stairs.

I was half dressed, heart broken, embarrassed and feeling utterly dejected.

I knew my stalker tendencies would come back to bite me on the ass, and they have. Big time. I feel awful and hate myself for leaving him with the impression that I'm a crazy woman. Doesn't he understand by now that I meant no harm with my intrusive behaviour and just needed to get close to him?

Apparently not.

I overstepped every boundary that he'd surrounded himself with. I terrified him, totally freaked him out and as usual, he couldn't get away from me fast enough. Not that I blame him, though. I invaded his personal space, followed him around and infiltrated the lives of those around him. I even had the gall to break into his home. No wonder he needed space.

No matter how anxious I felt at the time of upsetting him, I couldn't follow him when he ran from me. He needed time alone. He deserved the space to process and sort through all the information I'd dumped on him. I hate how the evening turned out, but it was only to be expected. Our plan, was down right crazy after all.

No matter how good it felt sitting in his lap, I felt the change in him immediately after my uncensored revelations. I was so at ease with him that I told him everything I'd done, and it was too much for him. Way, way too much, and way to soon. For just a minute, for one glorious minute, I had him at ease and feeling comfortable with me. I loved being so close to him and I knew he felt the same way. Until I blew it.

It felt so good sitting in his lap. Oh, who am I trying to kid, I was straddling him. I was straddling his hard muscular body and loving every minute of it. I could feel every inch of him, well, not every inch, but his torso felt amazing. Even his back, which is distorted with rippled, dipping and swirling skin, was hard and toned under my fingertips.

When his arms were wrapped tightly around me, it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. As I held him, my fingers moved involuntarily to draw patterns on his neck and shoulders. It was so entrancing, so instinctive and it was also a good distraction. It gave me something else to concentrated on. It was so hard not to lose myself with the man that was underneath me. I wanted to trail my fingers over every inch of him. I wanted to pull him closer, hold him tighter, but I couldn't. Our comforting hugs were tight, but they could've been filled with so much more.

I've never been that close to a man, half dressed and horny. I've never wanted to be. Who knows how things might've turned out if I hadn't of ruined everything. I scared him off. I'd gotten to close, to fast, and I knew it. Even at the time I knew it. I knew his apprehensions, his fears, his phobias. I knew of his temper, his reputation for keeping his distance and projecting a cold, hard front. I knew all this as he fled the house on the pretence of taking Tess out, and I knew I'd gone too far.

When Tess meandered up the stairs and found me a few minutes later, I knew for sure that he'd ran. I held on to Tess tightly as I just sat there, letting it all sink in. I knew I couldn't face him, or be there when he came back home. He wouldn't want me to be either, I don't think. So after hugging Tess goodbye, I left before he got back from the beach and had to ask me to leave.

I fled to the safety of my annex, where I locked the door, shut the blinds and climbed straight into bed. Once I was on my own and alone in the dark, my emotions took over and hit me like a tidal wave. The exhilaration of meeting him, the feel of him all around me was joyous and overwhelming, and gone. I knew I'd lost the chance of ever doing that again and cried myself to sleep as a result.

That hasn't been the only night either.

In hindsight, I could kick myself for not brazening waiting for him, because I haven't heard a word from Christian in over a week. Well, not directly, anyway.

When I woke Saturday morning, I knew he'd already left. Before I even peeked out of the window to confirm that his car had gone and security had returned, I knew he wouldn't be there.

The rest of the weekend passed with me curled up on the sofa, blinds remaining closed, mindlessly watching TV, eating crap and feeling sorry for myself. I couldn't even bring myself to step out onto the beach. As mad as it sounds, I didn't want to bump into Tess. I didn't want to see her and be reminded of Christian and what could've been.

I couldn't even bring myself to speak to Kate until Monday, even though she rang a couple of times Friday night and left messages over the weekend, I just wasn't ready then. I needed to wallow in my own stupidity and cringe worthy shame for a while.

I was soon knocked out of it, though.

I received a box of beautiful, long stemmed White roses, with a standard printed card. Simply saying, 'Thank you. Christian.' on Monday morning. A pleasant, generic, female voice, left me a voice mail while I was in the shower later that day, informing me that if I wanted to accept the job offered to me at the Grey House Bookstore, I should just call in and introduce myself.

There was no return contact information, with either the flowers or call.

The distant, third party contact, quickly brought me out of my stupor, and I'll admit, despite it being what I needed in order to pull myself together, I resented it. I've been on tenterhooks all week hoping to hear from him directly. It was a wasted run of emotions though, because I've heard nothing. It hasn't been completely one sided as I've been nowhere near Grey House either.

Once I climbed out of my emotional funk, I fled to Kate's. She's been my life line this past week and I've spent so much time with her that honestly, I don't know what I would've done without her. I rang her straight after receiving the job offer. She was eager for details on how things had gone on Friday night, but what could I really tell her? It went as well as expected, when someone breaks into your house and stalks your every move.

She confessed to hardly sleeping of Friday because she was so anxious, but as she didn't hear about my arrest or sudden murder, she knew things must've gone fairly well and couldn't wait to find out. I heard her sympathy when I explained how I fucked everything up, but as usual, Kate held a silver lining.

Leila had gone.

It came as a genuine shock when she told me, because I didn't think Christian would be so quick off the mark. I just hope he wasn't too angry with her, but we'll never know for sure.

Leila, was brought out of her heavy headed slumber, early Saturday morning. Christian called her before the sun was even up, and ended their relationship swiftly and abruptly over the phone. As Christian ended the call, Taylor knocked on the apartment door. He waited patiently while Leila showered, then efficiently assisted her with boxing up all of her things. There was no preamble or chit chat as he drove her straight to the airport, where Christian's private jet was ready to fly her to her parents place. When Kate arrived home from her yoga class a couple of hours later, there was a note stuck on the fridge with the words, 'Fuck you, both.' scrawled as a parting gift and no trace of Leila.

Guilt, ate away at me for most of the week but it evaporated this morning, when Kate showed me a photo of Leila and her new beau. She looked absolutely amazing on the arm of some GQ clone, while attending an event with her parents. I feel so much relief, knowing she couldn't have loved Christian as she proclaimed because she's replaced him so easily, and so quickly.

Kate, doesn't seem that sorry to see Leila go, either. She's used the past week to have her old bedroom remodelled and redecorated as she's decided to move into that room herself. Better view or something. She's even offered me her old room at a very reasonable rate. I do like Kate, she's become a great friend, so I'm seriously considering her offer. The job opportunity, is also very tempting.

I love the Grey House Bookstore. The layout, the location, the vibe of the place is wonderful and it would be great to indulge and use my love of books on a daily basis. It would also be nice to put down some roots and settle here in Seattle, plus, the longer I'm away from home the closer Ben and Aunt Meg will no doubt get. On the down side, could I really live so close to Christian and have no further contact with him? I don't think I could. I want more than sporadic, third party contact from him.

Touching him, being close to him, being held by him, has proven to me that I like him. I like him a lot. I want to get to know him, be a part of his life, and I genuinely thought he'd feel the same way about me. I was obviously wrong. The past week of not seeing him, not even in passing, has been awful. A phone call wouldn't have hurt. An email would have been nice. A simple text would have been appreciated. But nothing.

I've spent so much time with Kate, told her everything and she's helped me enormously, but even she doesn't understand how he could've ignored me so poignantly this past week. I couldn't approach him, no matter how much I wanted to, I've done that enough already. He knows where I am and how to contact me, so it's been down to him. He's chosen to ignore me and stay away, and it hurts.

Kate, plans to change all of that. Tonight, she's going to make it impossible for him to ignore me.

For the past few hours I've been under Kate's control and putty, in her expert hands. After showering, shaving and moisturising myself from head to toe, I sat down at Kate's vanity and let her have free rein over me. In just a short while, I'll be attending the Grey, Masquerade Charity Ball with Will and his wife.

Truthfully, I'm a bag of nerves and so glad Kate's here to do all of this for me as I'm in no fit state, my hands are shaking so much. Not only is it being held at Christian's mothers home, but Will, got confirmation from his wife, that Christian will definitely be in attendance. So she's determined to make me the belle of the ball this evening.

"I wish I was going with you." Kate utters suddenly, pulling me from my wondering thoughts.

She steps back from me and appraises her handy work as she finishes up with my hair and make up.

"Me too. I could do with the moral support." I tell her truthfully. Before closing my eyes and mouth as she sprays my curly up-do with a sprits of holding spray. I bite back a cough as Kate pulls a few curls loose to frame my face then sprays me again without warning.

"Forget that, you're brave, look absolutely beautiful and you can certainly handle Christian Grey. I want to go for a different reason, my own reasons." she say vivaciously, wiggling her eyebrows. Before indicting that I'm complete.

"Which are?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow, while standing and shrugging off my robe.

"Have you see his brother?" she chuckles, as she passes me a garment bag that holds the dress that she's deemed perfect for tonight.

"Only in pictures." I admit as I take the bag dubiously.

I gasp involuntarily as I pull open the bag and reach for the beautiful, Silver, floor length dress.

"Oh, Elliot Grey, is mighty fine. Maybe you could introduce us someday." Kate teases as she helps me step into the dress and zips me up.

"Yes, like that's going to happen. Christian, probably won't even notice me tonight." I retort.

"There's no chance of that happening." Kate chuckles as she steps away from me and heads towards her closet.

"You sound very confident. What makes you so sure?" I ask flippantly, as I sit on the corner of the bed and slip on a pair of strappy high heeled Silver shoes.

"Ana." Kate calls, causing me to turn and face her.

"Wow." I breathe, as I catch sight of my unrecognisable reflection in the mirror on her closet door.

"That's, why I'm so confident." she says softly as I stand and gape at myself.

My eyes take in every detail and I'm stunned at how a little time and effort can make so much difference. My hair is lush, shiny and curled beautifully, high on my head. A few curls fall, framing my face and neck to good effect. I look all feminine and regal and I can't help my slow growing smile. My make up is light, apart from my eyes, which are lined, dark and smoky. My dress is a strapless, silky creation and the tight fitted pleated bodice, shapes the dress beautifully and makes me feel amazing. Kate hands me a pair of tear drop earring and I just hope they aren't real diamonds as I'd hate to lose one.

"Christian, won't know what hit him." Kate chuckles, before spraying me with perfume and ushering me towards the door as the intercom buzzes.

"Kate, I..."

"Ana, you look beautiful, and I promise you, you'll have a wonderful night. Don't worry about anything, Will, is with you and he'll look after you. Now go, the limo is here. Text me at some point and let me know how it's going, okay?" she demands.

I nod as I thank her for all her help and hug her close in gratitude and farewell.

"I can feel that tonight is going to be something special, Ana. So I won't wait up." she utters close to my ear, before chuckling and pushing me out of the door.

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	33. Chapter 33 - Brotherly Love

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Chapter Thirty Three.

Brotherly Love.

 _ **Christian.**_

 _ **.**_

Arriving at my mothers home, my ears catch the hum of low conversation from the back of the house before I've even stepped out of the car. I sigh, deep and exasperated as I enter the hallway and close the front door behind me. I nod towards my mothers personal assistant as she notes my arrival with a small disapproving frown before rushing past me towards the gathering. I've deliberately kept my arrival as late as possible, it looks like I might've pushed it a bit.

I mentally prepare myself for an evening of monotony and mind numbing tedium. An evening filled with boring entertainment, boring conversation and even more boring people. Family aside, most of the people that attend these types of things like to loiter, grovel, and strangely, boast and brag. It's so repetitive and despite this being a charity function, once people know I'm attending, especially once the alcohol has been flowing, people seem to think that it's a place for business. Those that have the nerve to approach me, soon find out that that isn't the case. I made a promise to my mother years ago that I'd never discuss business while under her roof, and I've kept it, because it never ends well.

Following the sounds, I begin to head through the house on slow, heavy feet. Trudging down the inner hallway, I'm momentarily alarmed when an arm suddenly takes hold of me and pulls me into my mothers study. Turning, ready to disembowel who ever dared to grab hold of me, I relax instantly when Elliot greets me with a lazy smile and his usual one armed hug. Without uttering a word, he closes the study door behind me, pushes me into a chair, then hands me a tumbler of scotch.

"How rough's it gonna be?" I ask cautiously. Gratefully, accepting his offer of liquid courage and support.

I understand what Elliot's doing, he's trying to provide a cushion and ease us both into the night ahead. He, like me, knows exactly what to expect on a night like this. It's something we've both had to endure countless times as we grew up together. Truthfully, I'd be lost without him, and he knows it too.

"Mom, is her usual calm, collected, graceful self, but Mia is becoming unbearable." he replies, before sitting in the chair beside me and knocking back his drink. "She's been hounding me since I arrived. Hence, the hiding out in here for a bit." he adds with a deep chuckle.

I attempt to share his humour, but don't quiet manage to pull it off. We both know from experience how these evenings only intensify Mia's already hyperactive personality, and there really is no escaping her once she's fully charged. As much as I love my sister, I'm really not in the mood for her exuberance this evening.

"What's she been up to now?" I ask, dreading to even consider the possibilities. I mirror his actions and drain the liquid from my glass in one hearty swig.

"Mom's indulging her and given her free rein over the first dance auction this evening, so be prepared. I hope you've brought your dancing shoes and cheque book." he teases as I involuntarily roll my eyes.

"I'll donate as per usual, but I will not be participating." I tell him. My tone, bored and dismissive.

"You really think Mia will let you off that easily?" Elliot scoffs, as he splashing more liquid into both our glasses.

"We can but hope." I mutter, as I close my eyes and settle back in my chair.

I try and switch off, allowing myself to enjoy the warmth of my drink and the peace and quiet with my brother, but I can't. It's impossible, because all I can feel is Elliot's penetrative gaze burning into the side of my head.

"What are you staring at?" I ask without opening my eyes.

"What's happened, Christian?" he asks me quietly.

"Nothing. You know how much I hate these things." I answer quickly and very unconvincingly. "If it wasn't for mom, I wouldn't even be here." I add, when an uncomfortable silence begins to stretch out between us.

Elliot doesn't respond, but I can still feel his eyes on me. Glancing at him, he holds my eye and quirks a quizzical eyebrow at me, apparently, expecting more.

"There's more to it than that." he states, when I don't immediately respond. "You attend lots of these things and it's always under duress, we all know it. So why the resigned attitude tonight? What's mom got on you?" he attempts to joke.

"She has nothing on me." I tell him honestly.

"Are things running smoothly at Grey House? How's Tess?" he begins to fish.

I simply nod as he sits up straighter in his chair and watches me closely. I close my eyes and try to ignore his intense stare.

"I can tell when you're preoccupied, Christian. Something's worrying you." Elliot utters, knowingly.

"When did you become so observant and insightful?" I mutter, but don't elaborate any further.

"You know you can talk to me. Don't you, Christian." Elliot declares after a few minutes of silence.

Opening my eyes, I look at my brother and begin nodding slowly. It wouldn't be any type of hardship sharing things with him. I know I can trust him and he would never betray my confidence in anyway. I felt relieved after speaking with Gail, even before I knew Ana was alive. Sharing things with Elliot now should be easy, especially since I've spoken to Ana and know that she's alive and well.

"I met a girl." I utter quietly before I can hesitate. I can't help but snort loudly at the glint of teasing I see spark in my brothers eyes as the words register with him. "Don't Elliot, please. It's not what you think." I add, trying to curb his jokes before they start.

Elliot smirks, but holds his tongue none the less. He widens his eyes and gets comfortable, awaiting further details.

"Remember the night...The night we lost dad?" I whisper into the quiet room before I can think too much about what I'm going to say.

Elliot nods minutely, his brow, furrowing slowly and deeply. He's clearly wondering where I'm heading with this.

"A few things happened that night that no one else knows about." I admit while taking a deep cleansing breath.  
Elliot sits up straight in his chair and looks at me curiously. His face shows confusion, apprehension and his growing interest, but he remains silent while waiting for me to speak.

"Tess, she... She was never just a stray that I'd found at the camp site." I begin. "She... She had an owner, a girl, who was staying at the campsite with her father. His car, was the one that hit us. The one that exploded and..."

"Annie." Elliot mutters, quietly and dubiously. My eyes fly to his, wide and intrigued.

"How do you know that name?" I ask urgently. My stomach flipping nervously at the sound of it.

"When you were younger, you called out for her numerous times in your sleep." Elliot says softly and his words more than surprise me. I feel them, they creep over my skin like a chill. "You mentioned her a lot at first. You were on strong pain medication, talking incoherently most nights. It was hard to wake you at times, so obviously, I heard certain words." Elliot explains.

"I don't remember." I mutter, trying to think back to the nights he's recalling.

It's hard, because he's right, I was in so much pain back then. Along with heavy, mind numbing medication, there were numerous trips back and forth to different hospitals. Consultations, specialists, skin grafts, physical therapy, only adds to my confusion of a true memory and clear time scale. Ana, has been in my dreams ever since that night. I just never realized anyone in my family had been privy to it. Especially Elliot.

"You mentioned her more often right after the accident." Elliot continues, his voice soft and compassionate. "During your time at the hospital, you were never left alone. Mom or I, were always sitting with you. You mumbled and murmured her name every time you regained consciousness. It was the first thing you said when you woke up fully days later. Where was she? You demanded from mom but she couldn't tell you anything. She'd checked with the hospital but found no record of a girl with that name being brought in. The police confirmed no one else had survived the accident. After a few months, you stopped saying her name and we never mention the accident that often. We thought you were confused, and..."

"I wasn't, she was real and involved in the accident." I interrupt sharply, wanting him to know that I wasn't crazy.

"Then, I'm presuming this girl you've met has something to do with this Annie?" Elliot surmises.

"She is Annie, or rather, Ana." I utter softly.

"She didn't die like everyone thought?" Elliot asks.

"No, by some miracle she survived and tracked me down." I tell him, unable to contain my growing smile.

Despite how shocked and freaked out I was after being with Ana the other night, knowing she's alive is the greatest gift I could ever receive. Just thinking about her now, all flushed and breathing, puts a genuine smile on my face for the first time in days.

"Well, fuck me." Elliot mutters to himself. I can't help chuckling at his crude exclamation. "And now you've met her?" he asks, already knowing the answer. I nod anyway, confirming. "How the fuck did that happen?"

How? Christ, what didn't she try to meet me? Hats off to her for her ingenuity, strong will and fierce determination. I'll readily admit that I'm slightly gutted I haven't seen her this past week. Even if it was through my own doing.

After I left the beach house last weekend, it wasn't long before I wanted to go back. I wanted her to go back for her. I just didn't know how to approach her after abandoning her and leaving so abruptly. I wasn't sure if she'd need space as much as I did. So I hung back, hoping she'd follow her normal pattern and try to approach me, but she hasn't.

I kept looking for her though, every time I left my apartment I hoped to see her. I did all my usual things with my eyes peeled, but nothing. Not a glimpse. The irony of all of this is not lost on me. This time last week, the last thing I wanted was to see the ghost of Ana, now, I'd give anything to bump into her again.

It's hardly surprising that she's steering clear of me and hasn't been in contact. I left her, and I also knew she wouldn't be in my house when I returned. It scared me that it bothered me so much, so I ran from her before the sun was even up over the horizon. I'm unsure why I stayed away, even now, I just knew that I couldn't be close to her, not until I'd sorted my head out, anyway.

I've attempted to do that, with mixed results. I spoke and confessed all to Flynn as soon as I was able. He tried to advise me on how to react and deal with what I was feeling, but it didn't really register at the time. I remember that he advised me to leave Ana be for now, but be friendly and honest with her if she happened to get in touch again. I expressed to him how I didn't think she would, but he seems a bit more optimistic.

Only time will tell who's right.

"So how did you meet her?" Elliot asks, putting a stop to my wandering thoughts.

"We met on the beach." I tell him simply, omitting all the other incidents for now.

Shaking my head in decline to the offer of topping up my glass again, I sit back and watch him. The single shot I have left in my glass is enough for now. The buzz from the liquor I've already consumed is just enough to sooth, and will aid making tonight so much easier, but I know that anymore could be a mistake. There will be a lot of wine accompanying dinner and I need to keep my head clear and have my wits about me.

"This Annie, chick..." Elliot begins.

"Ana, she likes to be called Ana." I interrupt him, ignoring his low snigger.

"This Ana, chick." Elliot repeats with growing amusement. "She's made a big impression on you." he states.

"She did, she does." I admit automatically.

"Why? You were only kids. What happened between you both?" Elliot asks. His eyes, scrutinizing me closely. "I can see that something did."

I stare at my brother, recognizing his bemusement and knowledgeable smirk. When did he learn to read me so well. I shake my head at him, trying to hide my smile. I've always found an ease with him that came naturally, right now, I'm thankful for his ingrained kindness and brotherly support more than ever.

"Believing that Ana was dead was bad enough," I begin to explain. "But... I thought I'd killed her that night...not the crash." I confess more quietly and just for a few seconds I'm flooded with all the familiar feelings of anguish that have lived within me for years.

Those same agonising feelings, which have now been permanently eradicated by Ana's unexpected, but amazing reappearance.

Elliot doesn't say anything, but his eyes are burning into mine as he waits for me to elaborate further. Before I speak, I slug back the rest of my drink then place the glass down on a nearby table. I take a deep, easy breath and start talking.

"When our cars hit each other, Ana was trapped. She was held upside down by her seatbelt in the back of the wrecked car. Both of our fathers had gone and I wasn't strong enough to pull Ana free by myself. Her weight, as slight as it was, was working against her. I had to use dads fishing knife to cut her loose. I caught her with it... stabbing her in her chest."

"Christ, Christian." Elliot curses, cutting off my gushing and giving me a chance to breathe.

"I know, I know, but it was an accident" I declare passionately, before continuing. "The car moved as I cut her free from her seat belt, which caused her to collapse on top of me. She fell onto the knife, I didn't do it deliberately." I find myself imploring.

"That wasn't what I meant Christian, I can't believe you went through something like that and kept it to yourself for so long. No wonder that night's hounded you."

We lock eyes for a few silent minutes as the shock, disbelieve, then awe, floods through Elliot. "Then what happened?" he mouthes.

"Ana, lost so much blood, so quickly. She was so tiny..." my voice drifts off as the memory of the small, child like girl in my arms battles and blurs with the vision I have of the woman in my arms from the other night. The difference is remarkable and makes me feel very needy and wanting. Very wanting indeed.

Elliot raises his eyebrows, nodding, itching forward in his seat, urging me to continue my story. I snigger at his eagerness, and revel in the fact I can talk to him so freely about this. It's such an immense relief that he see nothing hate worthy in my actions.

"By the time I'd freed her from the wreckage and gone back for Tess, Ana, was laying lifeless on the side of the road. I didn't have a chance to check on her again before the car exploded. The last thought I had before I was caught up in the flames, was that I was too late. It was confirmed, every which way, when there was no trace of her at the hospital... You know what happened after that." I conclude.

"I do." Elliot mutters as he processes everything I've told him. "She went to another hospital, didn't she?" he surmises after a few silent minutes. I nod, wishing I could have come to that conclusion years ago.

Elliot sits up in his chair and fills his glass, but he doesn't drink from it.

"I wish you would've told me. I could've..." he begins.

"I couldn't tell anyone about her, Elliot," I interrupt. "When no one mentioned her, it was easy to hide her. It was hard enough you all believing that I was living with the guilt of one death, never mind two."

"It was an accident, Christian," Elliot states firmly. "The Police confirmed that."

"We were arguing Elliot," I snap. "When the two cars hit each other, dad was preoccupied because he was yelling at me. He.."

"You two were always arguing, Christian." he states matter of fact.

My stomach plummets at his nonchalant remark, because it's the truth. If I could go back and change one thing, that would be it. I wish, I could have had a stronger relationship with my father. I know he loved me, his patience with me proved that, but I can never remember telling him that I loved him. Simply put, I miss him. I will always miss him, and I will always feel responsible.

"That's why dad and I were away camping in the first place, remember? If I hadn't of..."

"Don't go down that road, please Christian. You've tormented yourself enough, dad wouldn't have wanted that for you." Elliot talks over me firmly.

I so want to believe him.

"Ana, she did the same." I mutter after a while.

"What?" he asks, confused.

"Ana, she's also been tormenting herself for years. She thought I died in the explosion saving Tess. It must have been so much worse for her. She's already lost her mother, and losing her father that night left her with just an Aunt. It was such a relief for her, for both of us, to know that what we thought was true, was so, so wrong."

"What happened when you met her?" Elliot asks, innocently enough, but I internally cringe at the thought of having to tell him exactly how Ana and I came face to face. He never needs to know about Leila. So, I bend the truth a little.

"We talked, shared our pasts and... hugged a lot." I tell him candidly, unable to hide, or control, the unexpected flush I feel burning across my cheeks.

Elliot belly laughs at me blatantly, only adding to my embarrassment, but he doesn't ridicule me like he normally would. So for that small mercy, I'm thankful. Instead, his amusement quickly reseeds and he looks at me with contemplation, and genuine kind eyes. He gives me a small knowing smile, understanding, that a hug means a lot in my world.

"So were does that leave you both now? Do you have plans to meet again?" he asks.

I shrug, trying to hide the emotions that suddenly start surging through me. The thought of seeing Ana again gets my heart pounding and my blood pumping. I want to see her again. The more I think about her, talk about her, the more I realise I want too. That I need too.

"We didn't make any definite plans, and it's so frustrating. It's been a very long week since I last spoke to her, or even saw her." I tell my brother honestly. A deep heavy sigh leaves my chest as I slouch further into my chair.

"How so?" Elliot asks. A small smirk tugging up his lip as he get comfortable.

He's enjoying this far too much I soon realise and surprisingly it makes me smile. It hits me, sadly, that even though I've always been close to Elliot, this, is probably one of the most honest and open conversations I've ever had with my brother. That's a sobering thought and one I will certainly rectify in the future.

"Before I met Ana at the beach, I saw her everywhere I went. It never registered with me that it was actually her, obviously. I just thought my imagination was running wild and hounding me after visiting the crash si..." my voice drifts off dubiously as it dawns on me that I've just admitted to Elliot about my going to the crash site. Alone.

I look at Elliot, expecting to see anger, or at least sadness, but all I get is an understanding smile, and his usual casual expression.

"It's okay, Christian. Mom had a feeling you would go Awol around the anniversary date. We've all noticed that you haven't been yourself lately and this would be a hard time of year for you. If you'd have wanted to acknowledge it in anyway with us, you would've said something. We took your silence as you wanting to deal with things in your own way." he concludes, with no bitterness or resentment at all.

"I'm sorry, Elliot." I murmur. Suddenly feeling shamed and remorseful for deserting and ostracizing my family at a time when we should have all been pulling together.

"Don't be, we know who you are and understand. We already know that you've been up there." My eyes fly to his in surprise. "Mom and I, we drove up there a few days after the anniversary. We saw your flowers and knew you'd been, even before the old guy walking his huskies told us that he saw you." Elliot explains.

"God, he doesn't miss a thing." I chuckle loudly, shaking my head in bemusement at the consistency of Old Ben's timely appearances.

"Do you know him?" Elliot asks, looking at me quizzically due to my amusement.

"No, but I saw him too, that's how Ana found me. She found the flowers and accompanying card. The old guy described me to her and she came straight to Seattle to find me. She didn't even know my full name."

"Then how did Ana find you?" Elliot interrupt.

"She hired a Private Investigator." I tell him simply. My earlier peeved response nowhere to be seen now.

Once I'd had time to calm down and looking into William Grant, I soon realised that Ana had no other option but to seek help. What else could she possibly do after arriving in a strange city and with hardly any information to go on? I'm just glad she chose a reputable investigator to assist her.

Will Grant, I'd already heard of him of course, and thankfully, after checking out his background and asking around, there's been nothing that brought up any red flags. He's attending this function tonight, I think I'll introduce myself and have a quiet word with him. It wouldn't hurt to inquire after Ana either.

"So what now?" Elliot asks.

I shrug, feeling dejected. Flynn advised me to keep my distance until Ana was ready, but he never said it would be so frustrating or such a hard thing to do.

"Do you know where she's staying?"

"Yes, I had Taylor find out." I tell him automatically as my mind wanders.

"You're a right pair, aren't you." Elliot points out with amusement.

I nod, sharing his humour. I've had Taylor keeping an eye on Ana. Well, a new guy named Sawyer. He's yet to tell me that Ana has accepted the job I offered to her, but he did inform me that she's still renting the annex on a weekly basis. It seems kind of pointless to me, as according to intel, she spends most of her time at Leila's old apartment with Katherine Kavanagh.

That fact, had my apprehension rising at first, but Flynn said not to worry. I've never been there, so can't really be associated with the property or Katherine. Ana seems to have become actual friends with Kate, and Leila is no threat now that she's gone, but I still feel nervous. Not that Ana doesn't know what my relationship with Leila entailed, she's been in my playroom for fucks sake. She was stripped, kneeling and hooded.

Leila, confessed a hell of a lot during her inebriation.

"What would you like to see happen between you both?" Elliot utters, breaking my musings.

"I want to see her again, but..."

"No buts," he interrupts forcefully. "I know you, Christian. Don't think about this, just call her. Invite her out for dinner, or coffee if that works better for you. If you're nervous, see if she has a friend and maybe we could double date." I chuff in contempt at his suggestion.

Dating.

He makes it sound so simple, and it has been simple and well practiced by my brother, but not me. I don't do dating, dinner, or even coffee. Especially not on a whim. No matter how tempting the thought is of just picking up my phone and calling Ana, I can't.

Suddenly, we're interrupted by the study door abruptly swinging open. A gush of cool air sweeps around the room sending a chill down my spine. A high pitched, relieved squeal and a flash of blue chiffon, bursts our bubble, and our quiet time is over.

Our dreaded night has begun.

"There, you both are." Mia shrieks as she bursts into the room. Her relieved body language hardening with her immediate frustration. "What the hell are you two doing loitering in here? Dinner, is about to be served." she states as she storms into the room.

"Mia, please..." I begin, slouching heavily in my chair.

"No, Christian." Mia snaps, putting a stop to anything I'm about to say. "I don't want to hear it. You agreed to attend tonight, so put on a smile and hurry. Mom is waiting on you both." she retorts sharply as she tosses a Black and Gold eye mask into my lap. Much to Elliot's amusement.

No sooner have I tied the Black ribbons around my head, Mia is pulling me out of my chair and out of the room. I turn to scowl over my shoulder as Elliot chuckles loudly behind me. He tips his glass towards me in a mock salute before draining the remaining liquid. His smile is smug as he places his glass down, secures his own mask and follows us out of the room.

Shit, he definitely had the right idea.

I should've had more scotch.  
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	34. Chapter 34 - The Gala

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Chapter Thirty Four.

Masquerade.

 _ **Ana.**_

.

Riding comfortably in the back of the sleek limousine, I try to rein in my growing excitement. As the car follows the winding driveway that leads to the magnificent house, I take in the splendor of the home that Christian and his siblings grew up in. This, is where Tess roamed while she grew up. Where she and Christian spent many hours playing together. I'm awed and delighted that she lived in a place like this and that they both had this security and of course, each other.

Will, smiles at me as his wife leans forward and takes hold of my hand reassuringly. They're both seated opposite me in the car and I'm so thankful they're here with me right now. I'm so nervous that I'm physically shaking. I'm unsure why exactly, because I want to see Christian again. I've been looking forward to it more and more as the time of the Gala has approached, so I don't understand why my heart is pounding.

The hand, holding mine, is the only thing that's keeping me from bouncing out of my seat.

"Relax, Ana." A soft voice coos at me.

Rebecca Grant, is a demur, beautiful, graceful woman. She has a true, kind hearted air about her and is so easy to talk too. She's been married to Will for over forty years and it shows, they know each other inside out. Will, has shared my story with his wife and I think she's more excited about tonight than I am. She's a true romantic at heart and hopes to play cupid somehow tonight.

"I don't have a true invitation. What if he sees me and has me thrown out?" I mutter my unknown fear out loud.

Rebecca chuckles. "Maybe this will help ease your worries." she utters softly, before passing me a black, drawstring pouch that I never notice was on the seat beside her. Opening it, my eyes widen and an excited smile takes over my face. Pulling out the black eye mask that's edged with silver embroidery, I quickly secure it around my head and revel in my partial concealment.

I feel a final squeeze to my fingers, a comforting, motherly gesture as the car comes to a stop in front of the beautiful house. Rebecca releases my hand and adorns her own mask, before accepts Will's hand in assistance to climb from the car. I follow, with the aid of the valet.

We're encouraged and enticed around the large house by twinkling lights and smartly dressed wait-on-staff. They smile big and welcoming as they offer champagne and fancy looking canapés of all shapes and sizes. I take an offered glass politely but don't drink from it.

My eyes are everywhere as we reach the gathering of guests in the vast, beautifully landscaped garden. I only scan the marquee as I enter, but I can tell it's spacious, elegant and nicely lit. The tasteful, expensive décor and beautifully laid out tables, hardly register. I'm too busy searching the sea of people, looking for Christian.

Holding it together, I follow the flow of guests and get introduced and passed down a line of people with Will and Rebecca. It only dawns on me after I've moved on, that I've just briefly shaken hands with Christian's mom.

I shake it off as I walk on unnoticed, hidden behind my mask. Will and Rebecca, pause to chat with friends as we head to our assigned table. I wander off through the growing crowd, smiling to myself because no one notices me, and it feels all covert and secretive with everybody's faces being covered.

I find a quiet corner that gives me a good view of the room, then take my time scanning the crowd more closely. Even though we're all wearing masks, I'm sure I'd recognize Christian's hair and stance in a crowd. No matter how hard I look though, I can't find him. I hope he's still attending and hasn't pulled out at the last minute, but you never know with my luck.

I've kept one eye on Christian's mom since I realised who she was, and over the past half an hour or so, despite her calm demeanour while she greets her guest, it's clear that her stress levels are rising. Christian's sister, who I recognise from her photograph, also looks beyond anxious as she darts about among the guests like a woman possessed and I don't think I'm the only one that's eagerly awaiting Christian's arrival.

As my eyes scan the room, I feel a wave of relief wash over me when I spot Taylor entering the marquee. I enjoy the smile that takes over my face, because I know that if Taylor's here, then Christian won't be too far behind him.

Will and Rebecca, have circulated and are now headed to where we're seated for dinner. Most of the guest have already taken their seats so I head over and take my place beside them. Smiling a greeting toward the five other guests seated around the table with us, I make myself comfortable. All the while, keeping an eye out for Christian.

The mood of the room changes immediately as the lights rise, and I can't help but feel excited knowing that the proceedings are about to begin. As much as I'm ready to dive right into a lavish meal and watch the affluent be entertained, it also means that we're all confined to our tables for the next few hours while dinner and the charity auction is going on.

Suddenly, a ripple of excitement runs through the room and I know it's because Christian has entered the marquee. Christian's arrival is only seconds before the first plate is laid on the table by the servers. Striding forcefully through the sea of tables, he commands the space as he moves. Eyes around the room flash to him. Some quickly averting, some lingering, some seeking his attention, but my eyes, they follow his every move. I'm also certain I begin to drool, because boy, he looks so damn good in a tux.

I find myself bouncing in my seat, subconsciously trying to catch his eye as he marches across the room followed by his sister Mia, and from the pictures I've seen, his brother, Elliot. Kate's right, he's very handsome.

Sadly, Christian doesn't notice me. Or anyone else, for that matter. He's far to focused on his destination to notice the people around him. After kissing the cheek of his mother and a few apologetic words, he takes his seat beside her.

During dinner, I've had a clear view of Christian's back through the gathering of guests. He and his family are a few tables away at the head of the room and I've been watching him interact with them. I notice that he doesn't initiate conversations with anyone except his family, but he does answer politely when spoken to by the people seated around him.

I eat and avidly watch, barley tasting the fabulous food or expensive wine and hardly noticing what's going on around me. I smile, nod, clap and converse in all the right places, but Will and Rebecca know that I'm more than preoccupied and are both finding it hard to contain their shared amusement. I ignore their mirth, secretly happy that they're happy, but I can't keep my eyes off of Christian for long and I don't care who see's it.

With watching Christian so closely over the past few hours, it's easy to spot the change in him when it happens. Over the past ten minutes or so, his posture has hardened and he's began fidgeting in his seat. I'm unsure if it's because he wants to turn and look behind him, or if he's just anxious for this night to be over so he can leave. I'd like to think it's the former and he can somehow feel that I'm here, but I doubt it.

Minutes later, and with rapturous applause that I robotically partake in, the lights dim, background music begins and bums shift nosily from seats. We're all free to move around again but I hold my seat as I watch Christian turn in his chair and pull out his phone.

I watch him for a second and even though his face is still covered by his Black and Gold silk mask, his hard demeanour screams keep away, keep away, keep away. Taylor's sudden and stealthy reappearance beside him reinforces that point, just in case the free flowing alcohol begins to make people more forward.

I've noticed many people glancing Christian's way over the past few minutes. Many people seem eager, wanting to approach him, but no one does. Even the staff seem to be giving him a wide birth. I giggle to myself as I stand, keen to head over and expel the hard persona this man eludes. I have a sudden urge to run over and throw myself into his lap, but somehow I don't think it would go down to well.

I take a step in Christian's direction just as a flash of blue crosses my eye line. When my eyes refocus and land on Christian's chair a second later, it's empty. Christian's gone, he's been dragged away by his sister. I slump into the first empty seat I reach, gutted, when I catch sight of them and realize that they're headed over to the main house and I can't possibly follow him.

Grabbing a glass from a passing waiter, I share a sympathetic smile with Will as he leads Rebecca toward the dance floor. I raise my glass in a self mocking toast and share Rebecca's never waning smile. I drain my glass and head out of the marquee looking for the bathrooms and in desperate need of some fresh air.

Before I'm even half way across the plush, laid out carpet that leads to the most lavish porter loos I've ever seen, a tornado in blue is upon me.

"I need you." Christian's sister Mia, gushes at me with no preamble or introduction.

"You do?" I ask, lifting a quizzical eyebrow at her.

"Yes, you have to be apart of my first dance auction." she explains.

"Excuse me." I state with I grimace. My stomach rolling at the mere thought.

"Oh please, don't pull that face. It'll be fine." Mia says like this is an everyday occurrence, and I can't help but chuckle to myself at her forwardness. She smiles up at me confidently.

"What do I have to do?" I find myself asking before I can stop myself.

Mia, smiles smugly as she explains further. "It's simple, and all part of this evenings entertainment. All you have to do is walk on stage, smile, look pretty and the males in the room will bid to dance with you."

"What if nobody bids for me?" I ask in all seriousness.

"Are you crazy? Who wouldn't want to dance with you?" she scoffs, sounding utterly bewildered.

I have a sudden thought that turns into an amazing idea.

"Okay, I'll do it, but I have one condition." I tell her with determination.

"You do?" Mia parrots my earlier response back at me, and also includes the quirked eyebrow.

"Yes, you have to get your brother to bid for me. No one else must win." I state my terms, hoping this will work out in my favour.

"One look at you and Elliot will be bidding, don't worry." she utters, with a roll of her eyes.

"Not Elliot, Christian." I tell her firmly. Mia's eyes widen as a bright smile takes over her face.

"You know my brother, Christian?" she asks with genuine curiosity.

"Not as well as I'd like." I tell her truthfully, and her eyes sparkle mischievously behind her mask.

"Oh, I'll certainly make sure he bids for you, my brother needs some fun in his life. I'm Mia, by the way."

"Ana." I reply, taking and shaking her offered hand.

I return her smile whole heartedly because it's good to officially meet her. Her photo's don't do her justice, she's a pretty little thing.

"Nice to meet you, Ana. Now, in about Ten minutes I need you to be stage side. Okay?" She says efficiently, before thrusting a numbered card into my hand, swiftly hugging me then flouncing off.

Stunned, staring at the black and gold gilded card with the number Eleven written on it, I continue on my way to the lavish bathrooms. After relieving myself, I head to the wash basins and after washing my hands, I remove my mask. My face feels cool, strangely bare and exposed without it.

I'm suddenly nervous, seeing myself in such opulent surroundings, and quickly touch up my make up and retie my mask. Hidden behind my ornate mask, I feel my confidence grow. I can do this. I look good, I feel good and truthfully, I want an excuse to have my arms around Christian again. Even if Mia and I have to dupe him into it.

What feels like only seconds later, I'm stood on a make shift stage being blinded by a bright spot light. I'm about to be paraded in front of the crowd, and I don't know if I should be thankful that I'm the last bid to be sold and all this will soon be over, or if I should have gone first and gotten it over and done with.

I don't really pay any attention to the auctioneer and the twaddle he's coming out with during his hard sell. I don't notice how the bidding is progressing at all, not until...

"Ten." a bored, but velvet voice I would recognize anywhere, states loudly.

Since stepping onto the stage, I've kept my gaze firmly away from the head table. I didn't trust myself not to do anything stupid if I caught Christian's eye. Gathering the courage to finally glance in the direction of Christian and his family has my mouth watering and my pulse pounding erratically. Christian looks utterly edible.

Most of the evening I've stared at Christian's back, which in itself was not displeasing. The way his broad shoulders shaped and sculptured his jacket showed only a hint of what was underneath, but you could tell he was toned and firm. I know first hand that that is true. Staring at the back of his neck, his scars just peeping over his collar was also enthralling. My fingers remember what it felt like to touch them. To run through his hair and curl around the nape of his neck. I remember the heat from his skin and how he trembled when my fingers involuntarily moved.

I feel my body shiver with the memory and vision that's accompanying it, and I need to get off of this stage.

Looking at Christian now, head on, is something else entirely. His suit is dark, sharp and tailored to perfection. His crisp white dress shirt, highlights his colouring, and the mask, oh, now that, puts him on a whole new level of sexiness all together. Looking closer, behind the mask, I can tell that Christian is bored. He's busy on his phone, trying hard to ignore Mia who's sitting next to him, nudging and coercing him into raising his bid card whenever necessary.

At her urging, he waves it in the air with no real interest at all, clearly only to appease her. It's written all over him that he'll do anything for her, and he is.

That can only work in my favour, right?

Well, maybe.

I chuckle to myself because it's clear to me, and everyone else around him, that Christian Grey could be bidding on a prized grazing heifer for all the interest he's showing. Even behind the mask and tyrant, grumpy, petulant attitude, he still looks striking though. He looks so strong and powerful in that sharp tailored tux of his. The fact his face is hidden, only adds to his natural allure and appeal. He looks so unobtainable and for use of a better word dangerous.

I still have the urge to run off this stage and jump into his lap though.

"Fourteen." I suddenly hear Will call out loud and clear, and it pulls me from my dreamy haze.

I roll my eyes, shake my head, and chuckle even louder, when I notice he smirks in Christian's direction as he does. I can't help but be pulled into his and Rebecca's glee and childish antics, but I will be chastising them both later.

Glancing around, reading the reaction from around the room a growing buzz reaches my ears. There are a few gasps, titters of laughter and stunned faces as Mia encourages Christian further. His strong voice calls out, "Fifteen." ringing with annoyance.

Wow, Fifteen thousand dollars. How did it get so high, so fast?

"Sixteen." A guy towards the back bellows deeply.

A few other bids banter back and forth between Will and the deep voiced guy, until once again Christian's voice dominates the room.

"Thirty, thousand dollars." Christian states with finality, before pushing Mia off of him with his shoulder. The room quiets down as his voice strangely echoes around the marquee.

No other bids are called.

"Sold, to Mr Christian Grey." The auctioneer calls, before banging down his hammer on the small wooden gavel and breaking the silence.

Christian, doesn't look up at the stage, or the person he's successfully won. He waves his bid card like he's swatting a fly, then closes up his phone. If I didn't sort of know him, I would be really offended right now. He ignores Mia as he stands, swigs off the dregs of his drink and turns on his heel to leave. I gape after him, embarrassment kicking in as everybody watches him leaving me high and dry.

My eyes don't leave his firm back as he strides from the room with determination and not so much as a glance my way. I notice Taylor move in my peripheral and slowly turn to face him. Surely he'll recognizes me, even with the mask? He does, and chuckles as he rolls his eyes skyward before following in Christian's footsteps.

Will, comes to my awkward rescue by helping me down from the stage. He leads me to his wife, who's waiting for me with open arms at our table. They're both clearly tipsy and enjoying themselves, as their exuberant greeting and overlapping conversations prove when I sit down to join them.

My eyes don't leave the exit where Christian disappeared, but I can't resist sharing a girlie giggle with Rebbecca as she hugs me tightly in congratulations. After a few minutes of excited chit chat, the lights around us dim further and the auctioneer urges the winning couples to take their place on the dance floor. My stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of dancing with Christian, and not only because I'm crap at it.

People rise and shuffle around me as the band begins to serenade the room with the intro it a slow, familiar ballad, and I know right then and there, that Christian has no intention of coming back. The dance floor fills up with mismatched couples as I eagerly, and stupidly, scan the room for Christian. I can't see him.

I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. I shouldn't feel disappointed, but I do.

As the couples begin to glide about in full swing on the dance floor in front of me, I'm glad I have the shielding of my mask. I can feel their eyes upon me as they breeze past me. Some emit curiosity for the girl that piqued Christian Grey's interest enough to bid. Some, hint at the smugness they feel over the fact I've been jilted, but most, are bouncing compassion and pity my way. Especially Mia, her mother and of course, Rebecca.

I loiter at our table until the dance is nearly over, then make a swift exit before Will and Rebecca can return to take their seats. I head out of the marquee feeling suddenly drained and with a strong urge to head home. I know is kind of unwarranted, because Christian didn't actually know it was me he was bidding for. I really shouldn't take this so personally, but that's really hard not to do when you feel like crap.

As I leave the safety of the lavish marquee unsure of where I'm headed, a figure in a sharp, dark business suit bushes past me.

"There seems to be a light on in the boat house, Miss Steele." A familiar voice whispers close to my ear.

"Thank you, Taylor." I exclaim with a sudden wave of excitement.

Pulling off my shoes, not caring who could be watching, I pick up the train of my dress and run across the grass towards the building Taylor indicated with a subtle nod. He heads off towards the rear of the main house, chuckling to himself as he does.

Reaching the building, I don't hesitate to push open the unlocked door and follow the dim light source I find inside. I locate Christian easily enough, but loiter in the doorway just looking at him. He'd look like a pure vision from the Gods, if he didn't look so tired and despondent right now.

Christian, is lounging on a large, wicker sofa. One of his legs is lifted, extended along the cushions. The other, still rests on the floor. He's leaning back, his head, resting on the padded arm. One of his arms is bent above him, his hand in his hair. His other, is holding an empty glass and lolls off the sofa towards the floor. The glass, only clears the ground by mere inches as he rocks his hand back and forth.

His suit jacket is open and his bow tie hangs loose across his chest. His face is free of his mask and his eyes are closed. He looks amazing, all sprawled out and somewhat relaxed. My perfect mirage is only spoiled as Christian's fingers move from his hair and begin pinching, and rubbing his forehead. I watch him. Taking him in from head to toe, it's clear that he really is a fine specimen of a man. Even with the deeply etched furrow to his brow, he's still so handsome. I want to run across the room and rub his imperfection with my thumb until it flattens out and disappears.

"You owe me a dance, Mr grey." I utter softly, hoping not to scare him.

I fail completely.

Christian nearly jumps out of his skin as he sits up sharply. He turns to face me and looks instantly livid. His posture hardens and he huffs as he shakes his head, clearly exasperated.

"Please, Miss, I apologize for my absence, but surely you must've realized that any friend of Mia's has..."

"Why are you avoiding me, Christian?" I interrupt him. Reaching up to untie my mask.

"Anastasia?" Christian breathes as his eyes meet mine and his whole being lightens. He stares at me like he's caught up in a trance, and I feel my smile grow. "You're here." he whispers.

I nod minutely and take a small step into the room. I see a twitch of hesitation, reluctance, something, and my smile slips just a tad as he seems to grow nervous and visibly pales. My eyebrow quirks, questioning his reaction and I'm unprepared for his response.

"Oh, Ana." leaves his lips, and it sound like a plea. "I'm sorry I left you. I never meant to abandon you like I did. I... forgive me." he says and suddenly appears so dejected.

He drops the glass he's holding and it bounces of the plush rug under his feet. His elbows drop to rest on his knees as his head falls into his palms. His eyes are now on the floor as he grips his hair tightly.

I automatically enter the room and close the distance between us.

"What's the matter? Are you okay?" I ask, my compassion for him suddenly overwhelming me. Christian nods, but doesn't say anything or look up.

The silence is deafening.

"Thank you, for the Flowers. They're beautiful." I whisper, trying to start some sort of conversation once it's clear that he won't. Christian nods, holding his tongue. "Speaking to you, would've been better." I add, hoping to encourage more of a response from him.

Christian chuff's. "I know, I apologise, but I was unsure of how I'd be received after what I did." he says softly, and that's all I get.

"I'm considering your job offer." I tell him honestly, and I know my gratitude and excitement is clear in my voice.

"I hoped you would." he chuckles to himself. His voice, becoming lighter.

I take a small step so I'm now right in front of him, and he begins to shows his nerves again. "What is it, Christian? Talk to me, please." I implore.

"I'm sorry, Ana. I don't mean to be rude and it's not as if I'm not glad to see you again, because believe me, I am, truly I am, but I can't get my head around everything. I..." his voice sounds so unsure and pained.

"What do you need to get you head around?" I interrupt, totally confused by his sudden gushing and look of sheer terror.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to do this, Ana. I don't even know what this is, never mind how I'm supposed to feel around you...I...They tell me to wait, but I wanted to call. Elliot mentioned dinner but I..." his voice is rushed and panicked.

"What do you mean? How you're supposed to feel. How do you feel?" I interrupt, my bewilderment clear in my tone.

Christian shakes his head, obviously frustrated and irritated.

"It's hard to make sense of it all. For years, all I've felt with the thought of you is anguish. Now, here you are, looking all kinds of beautiful and I want too..." his eyes leave the floor briefly and his hand wafts at me in explanation. Pride flows through me in confirmation that I look good and he's noticed. "And I've missed you and yet I can't, because I've never and I don't know what you want from me, and..." Christian continues.

"Christian, please stop. You're not making sense now." I snap firmly as Christian slumps further in on himself.

I stride over to him, take the seat beside him and drop my shoes on the floor. Taking hold of his hand, I pull it free from his hair and hold it tightly in mine.

"I don't know where you got the idea that I want something from you, but I don't." I utter softly, while squeezing his hand with mine.

"I know." Christian whispers.

"I know my coming here to find you was shocking, and brought you so much pain, but I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to meet you, help ease you, and myself maybe. I did hope we could become friends, but..."

"That's half the problem." Christian mutters. "I don't do...friends."

"That's because you've never wanted to share what happened to you, to us. I understand Christian. I've never let anyone close enough to realize I'd been keeping a secret, you've been the same, but everything you went through, all the things you've never wanted to share and have kept to yourself and hidden...well, I already know about them. Nothing can come between us because we have no secrets."

Christian is silent, but I know he understands what I'm trying to say. While I have his attention I decide to tell him what I'm really thinking.

"I know we share a past, Christian, and I'll be forever grateful to you for what you did for me and Tess that night, but I have to be honest with you." Christian's eyes flit to mine and I ignore my sudden nerves. "I have feelings for you." I say unhindered and I gush on as I see his eyes widen and hold mine. "I don't know what they are exactly, but I do know they're more than mere gratitude. I want to know you, Christian. I want to be close to you and... Do you have any feelings for me?" I ask, as soon as the thought pops into my head.

"Yes." He states firmly with a sudden fire in his eyes that makes me want to be in his lap again.

"Can I hug you?" I ask with no thought at all. Amazed, that my cheeks don't burst into flames.

Christian chuckles as he shifts next to me and I don't wait for his reply. I lift his arm, slide onto his lap and wrap my arms around his neck before he can even utter a word in refusal.

Christian, is hesitant and stiffens for a tenth of a second, before easing and pulling me closer into his strong, warm embrace.

I bury my face into the crook of his shoulder and take a deep contented breath. He smells divine, and feels so warm against me.

"Oh, Ana." he breathes against the skin of my neck, and there's no resisting the pull from him. I melt into every contour of him as his grip on my body tightens.

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	35. Chapter 35 - Tess

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Dog owners, you may wanna grab a tissue.

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Chapter Thirty Five.

Tess.

 _ **Christian.**_

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Letting myself into the boat house, I immediately welcome the peace and quiet. After closing the door behind me, I head further into the building and make myself comfortable before finally allowing myself to relax. I'm tired, mentally rather than physically, but I know I've got no real cause to grumble. I knew what to expect this evening and truthfully, it could've been a hell of a lot worse.

It was enjoyable in a way, seeing mom and the rest of my family all together. It doesn't happen very often, so having dinner with them all was pleasant. i know we've also accomplished what we set out to do tonight and raised the money that's needed for the refurbishments to the children's wing at the hospital, so it was also productive. All in all it was a good night and I've played my part in it well.

Now, I have every right to flee from Mia and her infuriating, immature friends. I know it was unchivalrous of me to leave a girl stranded like that and mom will no doubt be pissed at me, but Mia should know better than to try and set me up with one of her friends. Surely she knows I only bid to appease her and add to the pot, I had no real intention of seeing my actions through. Well, by the time Mia realises that and finds me, it should all be over. So there is a method behind my madness to hide out in here.

As I stretch my body out on the sofa I'm reclining on, I close my eyes and think back to my earlier conversation with Elliot. Maybe, I should've invited Ana to be my guest this evening? I'm surprised by the random thought but ponder it over with interest. It did feel like something was missing tonight and in hindsight, it would've been a genuine reason to call her. I wish it would've crossed my mind earlier. I think she would've enjoyed this evening and after Elliot's positive response to finding out about her, it would've been nice to introduce her to everyone.

It would've been nice to have her on my arm.

Pity, I didn't have the foresight or the nerve to consider it earlier.

Elliot, makes it all sound so simple. "Just ask her out for dinner, coffee." he says, and I suppose it is simple in the big scheme of things it's just so unfamiliar to me, but really, what's the worst that could happen?

She could say, 'No.' echoes around in my head.

A melodic, soft voice, suddenly interrupts my musings scaring the shit out of me and instantly pissing me off. My first initial thought is that Mia's found me, but before the ire at my sister can rise and erupt, the vision that could only be Ana is in front of me. Sheer delight rushes through me at the thought of her being here, but when she removes her mask and her eyes lock with mine, delight, isn't the only thing I feel. The rush of desire, need, and blatant want that surges through me at the sight of her scares the hell out of me.

I've never felt anything so powerful.

Ana looks beautiful all dressed up, but it really isn't necessary. Underneath all the primping and preening you can see that she's beautiful. I know first hand that she's a natural beauty. When she was sat on my lap in just a shirt, I could see it for myself. Clearly. I want to tell her how amazing she looks but when I see her step closer a strange irrational feeling of terror comes with it.

It's like I'm overwhelmed by her presence, yet I have to fight the urge not to jump to my feet and take hold of her. It makes me nervous. She's so close, touchable, and I want to pull her into my arms.

Would she even let me hold her again? Will she ever want to touch me again? My initial fear dissipates quickly as Ana steps closer and I ease into the thought of it. I want her to touch me. I want to touch her. After holding her the other night, I definitely want to touch _her_ again. In any capacity.

My head falls into my head as it pounds with frustration because she isn't mine to touch. My stomach rolls with sudden fear at the uncertainty and feelings she invokes in me and I begin to gush uncontrollably and have no real control over what I'm confessing to her, or why. I feel her take my hand from my hair and it helps clear my head when the heat from her skin warms mine.

Her words begin to reach me. Snippets, of our emotional rant penetrate and sink in, and before I realize that I've heard the words, 'she likes me too,' the sound of her asking, "Can I hug you?" puts an uncontrollable smile on my face.

Before I can utter a very needy, "Yes." her warmth is all around me. She's snug in my lap with her arms circling my head and she feels amazing pressed against me.

It takes a second or two for it to register with my stunned brain that she's right where I want her, but when it does, my arms wrap around her instinctively. I feel the heat and growing spark from her and my head falls onto hers as my arms tighten around her. I'm lost, in the smell of her hair and the feel of her in my arms, and it's all so easy and comforting.

It's like coming home.

"Oh, Ana." I can't help murmur against her.

I know she's heard me and feels the same desperate need as I do, when her whole body melts against mine.

She feels wonderful in my arms and I find myself taking a deep breath in through my nose, trying to pull her scent into my system as deep as possible. It invokes familiarity, comfort, and need. Ten minutes ago, she was on my mind, now, she's sitting in my lap. I can't believe she's here, never mind attending tonight and also partaken in the auction, but I shouldn't be surprised. The Grants are here after all. If I'd have known she'd accompanied them and that it was her I was blindly bidding for earlier, I would've swooped as soon as the gavel was hit and wouldn't have left her side for an instance. Fuck, she could have sat beside me throughout dinner.

Why did I not consider this? Why didn't I contact her regarding tonight? Why did I even leave her in the first place?

While fighting the urge to nuzzle and nibble on her slender exposed neck, I try to keep my body in check. I feel a sudden rush of arousal at the thought of her swaying against me while encased in my arms.

"I would very much like to dance with you, Anastasia." I find myself saying as I nestle my nose further into her hair.

Ana shudders, then chuckles against me before replying. "You had your chance mister and blew it, big time."

Ana's tone is teasing, but I can feel her underlining hurt even if she is trying to hide it. I pull back from her so I can see her face and purposefully look her in the eye.

"I apologise for leaving you like I did, Ana. I thought Mia was.."

"I know, I understand." she interrupts. "But I did feel like such an idiot when you didn't return." she confesses as her cheeks flush.

"I'm truly sorry for embarrassing you. We could go back? There's still time if you'd like to..." I offer, shifting my body in an attempt to stand.

"No, no, it's fine. I'm good right here." Ana says urgently as she snuggles back against me, ultimately holding me still.

My heart sky rockets at her reluctance to move and I can't help but pull her closer and fall into everything she could possibly offer.

As the minutes tick by I contemplate, pondering, how I spent years trying to replicate this. Why did I even waste my time with the likes of Leila and so many others? Why did I try to find something that was always unobtainable and could never be found in, or with, someone else?

There was only ever, one Ana. There's always been, only one Ana. I was a fool to think that anyone else could measure up to her and fill the void that she unknowingly created inside of me. Ana, is the only woman I want to spend my time with from now on. She, is the only woman I want to hold in my arms and if I'm lucky enough, have in my bed. I wonder how obtainable that would be? Has Ana even thought about me that way? I vaguely remember her saying something earlier about her feelings for me being more than friendship, but what does that mean exactly?

As if my hands have a mind of their own, they begin to move in order to test a theory. Ana hums to herself and shivers in a delightful way, when I blow gently on her neck and my hands run slowly down her back and come to rest on her hips. I smile against her, pleased with her response to me and my wandering hands.

I think I have my answer.

Our warm easy moment is disturbed, when the phone in my pocket underneath her, suddenly beeps and begins vibrating. Ana squirms a little as she pulls away from me before giggling and sliding from my lap.

"Sorry, please don't move. I'll ignore it." I state, while swiftly reaching out for her. I having no interest in answering my phone whatsoever right now, I want to keep a hold of her.

"No, it's fine. Please, deal with it." Ana says with a smile, dodging my out stretched hands.

I stand, silently cursing the person who's texting me so late.

As I pull out my phone, I don't take my eyes from Ana. She's standing a few feet away from me, trying to appear composed. By the look on her face, I think she actually welcomes this ill timed interruption. She appears to have a flush to her neck that's spreading across her shoulders, she seems to be breathing faster than normal, and I'm sure I've just seen her body quiver as she straightened out her dress. It delights me that she appears as effected by my presence as I am with hers. I attempt to hide my smug, satisfied smile as I glance down at my phone.

As I take in the words on the small screen, my whole world shifts and I feel my body slump forward. It's the text I've been dreading for days. My whole demeanour changes as the ripple of impending agony runs through me, and I know my time with Ana is over. I close my phone and my eyes and just take a moment to breathe. I know what this text means and the pain it carries with it, and it's the last thing I want to face right now.

"What it is?" Ana asks compassionately, instantly reading my body language and taking a small step toward me.

"It's a message from Sarah, Tess's companion." I explain. "Tess, she hasn't been so good these past few days. I need to head home."

"Oh...is Tess..." Ana's voice trails off as her eyes well up in understanding at my grief stricken face. I nod minutely, not wanting to explain further. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Ana offers, and I seize the opportunity.

"Come with me?" I ask desperately, feeling so cowardly for not wanting to go through this alone.

Ana, takes the hand I offer her and nods adamantly in agreement as she closes the gap between us. "I'll need to speak to Will and send a quick text to Kate..." Ana begins to gush.

"I'll have Taylor speak to The Grants, and you can text Kate from the car. We really need to go. I...I don't think we have much time." I tell her honestly, but hope to God that I'm wrong.

"Oh." she breathes in understanding, and her face falls.

I see the pain she feels for her long lost pup emitting from her as she holds my gaze, and I need to console her somehow. With no thought or hesitation, I pull her into a hug by the hand I'm holding. Without any preamble or conversation, we're soon clinging to each other. I feel her heart pounding, her warmth through my clothes, her shape conforming against mine and it feels good having her this close. I don't want to break this. I don't want to leave. I don't want to go home. I don't want to face what I know I must. I want to stay right here with this amazing woman who's encased in my arms and hide from what's to come.

As if she can feel my reluctance, Ana breaks our contact. "Come on." she utters softly as she unwraps herself from around me and takes hold of both my hands.

I nod as she squeezes my fingers in encouragement, and I can't resist, I need to kiss her in some shape or form before we go. I pull her back into my arms and press my lips firmly against the warm skin of her brow. My lips linger taking everything they can from her and I smile against her skin as her eyes drop closed and she hums softly to herself. She looks so content, so enthralled, so peaceful, and I want to kiss her from head to toe and watch her passion grow, but now is not the time.

Slowly, I pull my lips from her skin and break our contact. Ana's eyes slowly flutter open, but I don't think she's fully with me. While she appears to be slightly dazed, I gather her shoes and her purse and lead her quickly and quietly out of the boat house and straight to my car, which is parked at the back of the house.

Once we're both secure in the vehicle, I let the engine tick over as I text Taylor. After filling him in and instructing him to apologise to my mother for my abrupt departure, and give Ana's leave to The Grants, I then dismiss him and drive on autopilot towards the beach house.

The car is silent, apart from the deep purr of the V8s finely tuned engine, but surprisingly, it's not an uncomfortable, awkward silence. It's as if Ana knows that I need to be inside my own head right now, and is giving me the space that I need. It feels comfortable having her here beside me, it's nice having her so close.

Ana, seems quiet happy in herself during our journey, but she does glance my way apprehensively every few minutes. I can see her growing worry for Tess creasing her eyes the closer we get to the beach, but her posture, her body language, tells me that she's excited to be here with me. Her eyes may be heavy with worry, but they're bright when they meet mine. Her cheeks suddenly flush as she squirms in her seat, and I know for sure that she'd be smiling right now if the mood and circumstances weren't so sombre.

In no time at all I pull up at the beach house, and my heart drops at the exact same moment that Ana's soft, but pain filled groan, breaks the silence. We both notice the parked car and signage upon it and understand what it means to have the vet already in attendance. Things must be worse than I thought if Sarah has called Richard without waiting for instruction from me.

I've been dreading this day for so long, even though I knew it was inevitable and unavoidably close. I've seen the change in Tess over the past year or so and age has certainly caught up with her during that time. Sarah, has kept me up to date with her ailments as they took over her body one by one slowing her down, but it was unnecessary, I could see them clearly for myself and knew what it meant.

Taking Ana's hand firmly in mine, we cross the threshold of the house and I lead her straight into the kitchen. Tess, is where I expect her to be, curled up in her bed near the stove. Sarah, is kneeling beside her, cooing and petting her gently. Richard, the lead vet from the centre where Sarah volunteers is stood beside them watching them both compassionately.

I think I greet them as they notice our entrance into the kitchen but I keep my gaze on Tess. I listen, numbly, stoically to Richard, as he says hello and begins to explain the situation. I hear how there's nothing he can do. Kidney failure. It's time to let her go. All he can do is make her comfortable. We have time to say goodbye.

I'm only half listening.

I hear Sarah sob and Ana gasps as her hand grips mine tighter. I feel my head nod in understanding but keep my focus on Tess. I feel my eyes sting with the tears I don't want to shed in public the longer I look at her, but I can't turn away. I'll break if I do. I shift my body, turning slightly, allowing Ana to lean into me. She grips my side tightly and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, thankful for her support.

After a few minutes of grief filled silence, I finally pull my eyes from Tess and meet Richards compassionate gaze. He looks at me expectantly but I find I have nothing to say. Even if I wanted too, I know I couldn't utter a word. My throat is tight and my chest is so painfully compressed that I'm surprised I can even breathe right now.

"I've given her something to calm and ease her along, Mr Grey." Richard says when he realises I'm mute. "As painful as I know this is, take comfort in knowing that she isn't suffering any longer. She has been in a lot of pain recently. Enjoy your time with her...she doesn't have long." he adds in his well practiced, steady, voice, before patting my shoulder and heading off into the living room.

I hear Sarah's heart breaking sob just before her body sags and covers Tess. She hugs her friend and kisses her goodbye, before standing and turning to face me. As she holds my eye, she has tears running down her puffy cheeks and is attempting to pull herself together enough for speech.

"I'm.. I'm so sorry, Mr Grey. I..." she begins to sputter, and I know this is just as heart breaking for her as it is for me.

"I know, Sarah. Thank you, for being here with her." I manage to utter.

She nods at me before wiping her eyes with her sweatshirt sleeve, and I know she needs comforting right now. I stare at her gormlessly as her body shakes and her tears continue to flow. Ana must feel her distress just as much as I do because she frees herself from my grip and pulls Sarah into her arms.

The two women, who are strangers to each other, hold each other tightly. Ana begins to stroke Sarah's hair and mutter sweet, calming words into her ear. I watch and feel their shared heartbreak but I'm unable to do anything to help either of them. After a few minutes, Ana pulls away from Sarah and passes her a small drying towel that's hanging from the door of the stove. They speak, but I don't hear what they say. Sarah, dabs at her eyes before smiling at us both and following Richard into the living room.

I have no idea what's going on.

I turn to Ana, needing her guidance on what the fuck I should do now, but her eyes are pooling heavily and she seems just as broken as I am. I don't pause to think, I just react to the sight of her and pull her into me. Needing to comfort her, and myself, I wrap my arms around her and welcome her embrace. I hold her close, trying to draw strength from her, hoping I can hold it together.

Resting my chin on Ana's shoulder, I look down at Tess on the floor behind her. I gulp down the knot in my throat as my eyes begin to burn. As if Tess can feel me watching her, her eyes slowly open. Her gaze meets mine and it's as if I can see the relief flood through her because I'm here. Her gaze seems kind, knowing, and I'm sure if she could smile right now she would. I feel Ana sniffle against me and grip my waist tighter, and I know what we have to do.

"Come on." I whisper to Ana as I let her go, step around her and bend down to lift Tess into my arms.

Carrying Tess, cradling her close to my chest, is so reminiscent of a night from long ago and I find myself holding her tighter. I cling to her, as I clung to her then, even though she's a lot bigger now. I'll be forever grateful that she had a chance to grow and have a good life with me.

Images of the time I've spent with her over the years begin to play like a montage in my minds eye. I see her straight after the accident recovering, healing, growing, playing, becoming everything I've ever wanted in a friend. I would've been lost without her after the accident and growing up.

I will, be lost without her now.

Wanting to do this properly, I turn toward the back door that leads out onto the deck. "Could you open the door, please?" I manage to ask Ana. My voice just about holding together.

Ana nods at me with sympathy as she picks up the train of her dress and holds the door wide for me. She follows me outside without a second thought, and together we trudge our way through the sand to the gazebo. Tess, nudges my chest in gratitude as I lay her down on the soft sand, and I want to smile but my throat and face are painfully rigid.

Tess loves it out here, it's her favourite resting spot, so I know I've made the right decision. It's a beautiful night, the sky is clear with a bright full moon and a warm breeze wafts over us, but I don't want to say goodbye. I don't want to lose her. Not tonight.

I can hear Ana sniffing as I lay myself down beside Tess, and I can't look at her. I know it'll finally break me if I see her distress. I keep my eyes on Tess as Ana settles herself on the other side of her. We're a strange sight, both laying on our sides, wrapped around Tess. Me in my Tux, and Ana, in her long flowing gown. Neither of us seem to care that were ruining our clothes but I inwardly smile as I see Ana tug off her shoes as I pull open my bow tie.

Tess shifts, looking between the two of us with her big, sad, puppy dog eyes that she's never quiet lost. It's as if she knows what's happening to her right now and it breaks my heart to see her like this. Ana's too. I can feel it.

After a few quiet and sombre minutes of neither of us taking our eyes or thoughts from Tess, I think she knows the end is here.

Tess, looks between us both and licks my hand before nudging Ana's arm. She settles herself down between us and I watch her closely as her eyes close and her chest lifts and falls for the very last time. My throat contorts painfully as my eyes well and my heart twists in my tightening chest and I can't control my sob.

Sadness, a bone crushing, chest compressing, throat wringing sadness over powers me at the sight of loosing my only true friend and I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do without her.

Ana sobs and falls over Tess as soon as she realizes she's gone and I follow her movements without thought.

Covering her body with mine, I hold her, so grateful for having her here with me. Together, our sobs coincide and our tears pour as we say goodbye to the courageous heart that brought us both together, all those years ago.

.

Goodbye, Tess.

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	36. Chapter 36 - Solace

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Chapter Thirty Six.

Solace.

 _ **Ana.**_

 _ **.**_

Sitting side by side at the foot of the stairs, both of us, just staring at the closed front door, has gone beyond uncomfortable now. I've grown more and more agitated as the minutes have ticked by and now, I'm bubbling with frustration. All I want to do is pull Christian into my arms and comfort him, but honestly, I think any sudden movement would startle him and send him running. He feels like a tightly coiled spring sat beside me, and I can sense that it wouldn't take much to have him ricocheting off the walls.

So I daren't move.

The silence that envelopes us, that's what's getting to me the most though. It's uncomfortable, imposing and strangely deafening. I want to break it. I want to offer words of condolence, sympathy and express my support, but I don't know where to start. Plus, I'm debating, will Christian even want to hear them? Will he want the silence broken? He seems so lost inside his own head.

So for now, I daren't say anything either.

Suddenly, Christian's head falls into his hands with a heavy despondent sigh. I eagerly turn to face him as he finally shifts beside me. He looks up at me with pooling, pleading grey eyes and I feel my face contort compassionately at the sight of him.

"Would you...would you mind staying here tonight?" Christian whispers, and even though they're the first words he's spoken since the vet left with Tess, they don't surprise me.

The look of pure devastation on his face when he placed Tess into the back of the vets car, was enough to convince me that he needs me right now. He looked so broken as he carried Tess from the beach and lay her down on her bed. Sarah, had obviously thought ahead and placed it there in readiness. She also left with the vet, wanting to remain with Tess until the very end and to give us a little space, I think. She'll stay with her parents for now and return in a few days with Tess's ashes as Christian wants to scatter them while out on The Grace.

Even now, nearly an hour later, Christian still looks so empty and lost. I know he feels Tess's loss more than I do so there's no way I'm leaving him alone tonight. Even if he hadn't have asked me to stay, I would have. Voluntarily.

"Yes, I'd like that." I whisper, before I'm even aware that I've spoken.

Christian looks instantly relieved and quickly runs his hands over his face. His posture loosens as he stands, takes hold of my hand and pulls out his phone. After a very brief conversation with Taylor, he secures the doors to the house, sets the alarm and turns off all the downstairs lights. While he's done all of this, he's held my hand tightly in his and lead me throughout his house. I've followed him blindly, my head, crammed with scenarios of spending the night here with Christian.

Will he want to sit up all night and reminisce about the friend he's just lost, or will he want to remain silent? Will he want me close to him or am I being lead to a guest bedroom? I want to stay with him, but what does he want?

I don't have to wait too long to find out.

"Would you...would you mind sharing my room?" he asks, when we're half way up the stairs.

He sounds nervous and looks a bit unsure of himself, and of course I know why, but I think he needs this from me tonight. His feet falter on the stairs as his question hangs in the air, and I realise that I've yet to answer him. His fingers squeeze mine gently as I meet his eye and I can't help but smile up at him.

I feel my heart begin to pound and my cheeks heat at the thought of sharing a room, never mind the possibility of sharing a bed with Christian.

"It's not so... I don't mean for..." Christian suddenly begins to splutter nervously, when he sees the flush blooming on my face.

"I know. I understand." I manage to get out, and I smile when I see his embarrassment dissolve. He shakes his head for some strange reason and mutters something to himself, before continuing to tow me along.

"Do you need anything?" he asks politely as we reach the top of the stairs and head for his room.

I shake my head as he opens the door, leads me inside and switches on the nearest bedside lamp. At the sight of the huge, perfectly made bed, my nerves and any growing worries I have with sharing this space with Christian, evaporate. The bed looks so inviting and I'm suddenly physically drained and utterly exhausted.

Crying, will do that to a person, I suppose.

Christian, appears unsure of what to do now that I'm actually in here and begins to glance around the room nervously. He looks everywhere but at me. He no doubt feels dubious about asking me to stay now, and if I thought for a second that there would be anything sexual about us being together tonight, I would hold the same nerves, but it's not, so I don't. Even though it's going to be hard not to think about that, when I'm laying in bed next to him.

Christian, hasn't thought that far ahead. Just the sleeping arrangements are a problem. Just my being in this room is a problem.

I remember Leila's shocking revelation to Kate and I, how Christian had never shared his bed with her. Christian himself, has told me more than once, how he hates to be touched and has never allowed anyone to get close to him. I'll respect that side of him while we're together tonight, but I think he and I have cleared that boundary. Or at least, tiptoed over it. He doesn't seem to mind my touch, he even encourages and initiates it. I'm sure he can feel the ease we have with each other, so I don't think a few hugs will hurt. He'll need them tonight.

I squeeze Christian's hand and it seems to pull him out of his doubt filled stupor. I smile at him with understanding, holding his eye until I see him relax. He smiles softly and it surprises me, when he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it firmly. His eyes leave mine as my spine ripples uncontrollably.

Once his lips leave my skin he releases my hand and without a word, heads for the closet on the other side of the room. My eyes follow his every step and I feel them widen, when he removes his jackets and tosses it carelessly onto a nearby chair. The muscles that ripple under his tight, white, dress shirt are captivating and I quickly pull my eyes away from him and try and take stock of his room. Anything to distract myself.

The room is masculine, impersonal and void of any real clutter. No photos, no keepsakes or trinkets. No sign of Christian at all. If it wasn't for the room smelling so strongly of him, I wouldn't know this room was his at all. I close my eyes and take a deep lung full of air, swallowing the essence that is truly Christian. It's heavenly. When my eyes slowly open, I catch sight of myself in a full length mirror across the room and realize that I'm still wearing my gown.

The Gala, seems like a life time ago now.

"I could do with something to sleep in." I call out toward the closet door.

Christian appears a few moments later, bare chested, dressed only in loose fitting sleep pants. He can't seem to hold my eye as he approaches and offers me a similar pair of pants and a light blue T-shirt. I flush, suddenly feeling all warm and tingly at the thought of sleeping in his clothes. My palms begin to sweat and I can feel my breathing deepen the longer I look at the semi-naked man in front of me.

This, is really happening.

Christian, doesn't seem to notice my reaction to him or my wandering thoughts, but I don't think he's aware of much at the moment. He still looks so tired, so despondent, so doleful. His eyes are trained on the floor and it's clear to see that his thoughts are elsewhere. He certainly doesn't need me drooling, or crawling for that matter, all over him. He needs my help and support right now.

"The bathroom is through there. Please, freshen up and change." he says quietly, but I can still hear the apprehension running through his voice.

I smile in gratitude before heading away to give him some space, but then it dawns on me what I'm wearing.

"Would you mind?" I ask Christian as I retrace my steps and turn my back to him.

I loiter in front of him and his eyebrow creases at me when I glance over my shoulder expectantly. I don't think he's heard me, so I point over my shoulder, repeating, that I need his help with unhooking my dress.

"Oh, sorry. Of course." he states immediately, before stepping forward to help me.

When I feel his fingers touch my skin, I can't help but hold my breath. Slowly, far too slowly, his fingers trail the nape of my neck as they brush the loose curls of hair that have fallen free over my shoulder. My eyes want to drop closed. Goosebumps, shiver down my spine at the contact, and I can feel the heat from his fingers as they run down my back and take hold of the top of my dress. They linger, before I feel his warm breath on my shoulder and feel the zipper being lowered a few inches.

I can feel the heat from him as he's drawn closer to me and I want to lean back and melt against him. I want to feel his arms wrap around me and the firmness of him pressed against me. I want to let my dress fall and turn around to face him. Suddenly, I hear his breath hitch close to my ear and feel him take a swift step back, and I know it's because my body has begun to bow into his.

Only when there's a little distance between us can I regain my focus and manage to breathe more normally.

"Thank you." I mutter, flustered and keen to head away.

"Wait." Christian suddenly commands and my feet take root.

Before I can turn to see what he wants, he takes hold of my shoulders to keep me still and then his fingers are back. I try and hold myself as still as possible when I feel him begin to pull the clips from my hair. Once he's removed them all, it surprises me, when I feel his fingers fan out and run through the curls to loosen them. My eyes drop, my neck rolls, and my body shivers at this intimate action, and of course, his nearness.

"Go, go and change Anastasia." Christian suddenly says in a deep, gruff voice. A voice that I've never heard before, and I can barely remain on my feet.

Holding my arms across my chest so that my dress won't slip, I thank him again before quickly heading into the bathroom on very shaky legs. Once the door is closed behind me, I lean back against it, thankful for it's support. I take a few deep gulps of air as my body continues to tremble from head to toe. All he did was touch my hair, brush my back and exhale his warm breath on my shoulder, but boy, I can feel him core deep, so much so that I'm still quivering. How on earth am I going to be able to share his bed?

What is it about him? He only has to be close to me and I physically react to him. I've always felt drawn to him, connected to him in some way, but this, this is completely overwhelming. Finding him attractive is one thing, craving to touch and be touched by him is something else. Something new.

Oh, what have I gotten myself into?

While shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, I allow my dress to fall to the floor. Stepping out of it, I quickly retrieve it, then hang it on a hook on the back of the door. Heading over to the sink, I place the clothes Christian gave me beside it before running the cold water. Cupping my hands to collect the liquid, I splash it over my flushed face a few times before running my damp hands round the back of my neck. The water and cool air are helping my skin to breathe and my head to clear, but I'm still feeling very hot and bothered. I just can't seem to calm myself down but it's hardly surprising, I've totally turned to mush.

Stood in a strange bathroom, looking at myself in only my underwear, it hits me again that I'm actually going to be sharing Christian's bed. Something, no one else has ever done before. Something I've never done before. I feel exhilarated, despite my fatigue, knowing I'll be so close to him. I'll be laying next to him, sleeping beside him. Able to touch him. The thought kicks my body off again and as the shivers of excitement run from my scalp down to the soles of my feet, I try to distract myself by dressing.

Slipping Christian's T-shirt over my head, the soft, worn cotton feels nice against my skin, especially since I've just removed my strapless bra. His T-shirt reaches my mid thighs and covers everything that needs to be hidden, so I don't bother with the sleep pants that he's given me. They're far too big for me anyway, and with the way my heart is pounding and my body is over reacting to the thought of what's to come, they'll no doubt cause me to swelter.

Gathering all my hair together, I pull it into a sloppy bun and secure it on the top of my head. Glancing around the bathroom, I see Christian's toiletries gathered neatly beside the sink, including his toothbrush. I debate for a second on whether to use it or not, but then think better of it. Taking a peak inside the mirrored vanity unit in front of me, I see a brand new one still in its wrapping. After opening it and using it, I place it in the glass tumbler beside Christian's.

Who would've thought this day would end with me brushing my teeth in Christian's bathroom. I never thought for a second it would end with me sharing his bed. The most I hoped for from this evening was maybe a dance or two and the swapping of phone numbers. It's just so heart breaking that we had to lose Tess, in order to end up like this. My mood quickly turns sombre and I'm thankful, because it banishes all the inappropriate thoughts I'm having and pulls me back together.

Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I inhale deeply and slowly blow out a lung full of air. With a renewed determination, I turn and head out of the bathroom before I can change my mind. Subconsciously, hoping that I can control myself around Christian.

As I step into Christian's bedroom, all the apprehension that's built up within me vanishes in an instant.

I don't know where I expected to find Christian, maybe settled in bed already, but I certainly didn't expect to find him slumped on the side of his bed. His head is in his hands and his fists are gripping his hair tightly. He's rocking, his breathing is laboured and he's clearly trying to fight and contain the grief he's feeling. The sight of this beautiful, broken man brings me to tears and I don't think twice as I cross the room with the single purpose of comforting him.

As I reach him, without any hesitation or warning, he takes hold of my hips and pulls me into him, so that I'm stood in between his knees. He wraps his arms tightly around my waist and buries his face into my stomach. Within seconds, I can feel my shirt dampening from the heavy tears he's finally letting free and my heart shatters for him. I feel so much empathy for him that I find it hard to contain my own sob as I lean over him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. My fingers dive into his hair, pulling him even closer to me as his unhindered sobs take hold.

After a few minutes of us both openly crying, I ease my hands down his back and rub comfortingly. I coo softly, unsure of what I'm saying exactly but my words are soft and gentle. It must be what he needs because I feel his body relax and his tears begin to cease. I keep hold of him, enjoying his firm, warm body being so close to mine. I feel his breath, warm on my torso, deepen as his arms unravel from around me. His fists clench my T-shirt tightly, close to my hips, when my fingers run up his spine, up his neck and back into his hair. His body shudders and I'm unsure if it's another sadness fuelled shudder or an enjoyable, involuntary one. Reluctantly, I loosen my grip from around Christian and step away from him.

Christian's hands leave my hips and drop beside him onto the bed. He looks up at me and his face, even though stricken and holding embarrassment for crying, is alive with something else. His eyes darken and his breathing quickens the longer we hold eye contact. Feeling the pull towards him and fighting the usual urge to jump into his lap, I step around him and circle the bed. He hasn't asked me to share his bed, but there's no way I'm leaving him. So I don't wait for an invite.

Pulling back the covers, I clamber in, just hoping that I haven't inadvertently taken his preferred side. Christian doesn't say anything but his eyes are on me, watching my every move.

Despite the intense look on Christian's face, I know that he's never shared this bed with anyone, and I can see that hesitation and wariness too.

"Come on, get in. You must be shattered. I know I am." I say light heartedly, trying to ease what could soon be a really uncomfortable and awkward situation.

I can see that he's dubious, but I can also see a excitement growing in his doleful eyes. Silently, he turns off the bedside lamp and climbs in beside me. The room is basked in a steely glow from the full moon and open drapes enabling me to see him. Christian lays himself down beside me, attempting to leave some space between us and just stares up at the ceiling.

After a few silent minutes, I roll onto my side and watch him. He looks so handsome in this low light, even if his face is set determinedly and he's still focused on the ceiling. I can see his lingering grief and uncertainty, but it's contradicted by the fire still simmering in his eyes.

I'm not having this. I can't let him wallow in his grief. Tonight, he needs comforting. Tess, was the only companion he had and now she's gone. I understand that, so I want to help him through this. I loved Tess too, but I lost her years ago, she was Christian's true friend and companion for years. Not mine.

"Christian." I whisper.

"Yes." He answers immediately, his voice dry and broken.

"Would you please, hold me?" I ask, my voice, still low.

His breathing seems to stop after his surprised gasp, and I'm unsure if it's because he doesn't want to or because he never has before. So without thinking about it too much, or giving him any time to panic, I roll into him and snuggle into his side before he can stop me.

It only takes a matter of moments before he moves, and I smile to myself, when I feel his arms slide around me. I feel his heart and breathing restart as I wrap my arms over him and lay my head on his bare chest. It's hard and soft and so warm, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be.

"Thank you, Ana, for being here." Christian utters softly into my hair.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." I reply against his chest.

"Thank you, all the same." he whispers.

I know he's thanking me for my everything this evening and not just the warmth and comfort I'm providing him now. I feel myself smile against his chest as I nod, because I don't want to ruin this moment by speaking. I snuggle into him further getting more comfortable, when I feel his chest hum and vibrate under my cheek after he sighs a deep sigh of contentment.

"I never did get a chance to dance with you." I find myself muttering a few minutes later, as the heat and security from him sinks into me and begins to sooth me to sleep.

"There's always tomorrow." he whispers as his lips press firmly onto my brow and his arms tighten around me.

"Yes, tomorrow." I murmur, before sleep engulfs me and my eyes drop closed.  
.

A/N.

Apologies, real life sure can get in the way sometimes.


	37. Chapter 37 - Heat

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Chapter Thirty Seven.

Heat.

 _ **Ana.**_  
.

Sometime later, lost in a sea of delicious heat, I feel my body ripple. Nibbling on the back of my neck seeps into my sleepy consciousness causing my body to squirm. The dream I'm lost in seems to be turning into a wonderful reality because I'm sure I can feel warm, strong arms circling my waist. A masculine body elongates with mine and everywhere it touches makes my flesh feel like it's being scorched by the heat from it.

Then it dawns on me.

Christian.

I push back against him, moaning softly as my body bows into the shape of him. Which thankfully, only seems to encourage him further. My eyes flutter open as his hand slowly slides across my stomach and grips my hip. It's still dark out, but the early light is trying hard to encroach on the room and take over. My eyes close and I squeeze them tightly, determined to keep this new day at bay and linger for a little bit longer in this amazing living dream. I arch back into him more firmly causing his knees rise, bringing us both into a tight foetal position.

With him spooning me so tightly, it ignites every part of me and I don't hesitate to lift my arm above my head and push my fingers into his unruly hair. My T-shirt rises with my movements and Christian's hand soon follows. I tug on his hair as his hand roams free under the soft cotton and his chest vibrates against my back in response.

Another low, unhindered moan leaves my lips as the need for him to touch me escalates further. A tingling, followed by a warm shudder of desire runs through my body when Christian's lips become more forceful on my neck.

I'm unsure if Christian is fully awake, I know I'm not, and I love this sleepy, enticing, horny feeling that's rising between us. I can feel his hard erection, growing against the back of my thigh and the heat from him, even through a layer of clothing, is immense. I need to see him. I need to feel him too.

Shifting forward, in order to put some space between us, I then roll backwards so I'm laying on my back. I open my eyes and hum in appreciation at the sight of Christian. His eyes are dark, only half open and they make his face appear lust filled and euphoric. I don't move as he rolls forward, licks his lips and begins to nuzzle the front of my throat. He murmurs my name as I settle under him and when the nips on my throat become more open mouthed, suckling kisses, my body dissolves into the mattress.

He covers me, his thigh, slipping between mine, and I so wish he wasn't wearing his sleep pants right now. I hold myself still as his firm fingers drift from my hip up my side. He stops, moaning against my hot skin when his hand reaches and cups my breast. My breathing stills at the feel of my nipple, elongating under his palm. His thumb, begins moving slowly back and forth over the peak and my insides rhythmically throb as I begin to mewl with pleasure.

I slip my arms around him. One hand, entwining in the soft locks of his hair, the other, resting on his lower back. I pull him into me while lifting my hips to meet his. The moan that leaves him is deep and heady and when his actions become more heated, I grip him more tightly, holding him close, because I so want this to happen right now.

Even if he is...still half asleep.

He hums, deep in his chest as he nibbles along my jaw to reach my lips. Once he does, mine open on contact and there's no preamble, no hesitation between us. Our tongues effortlessly begin to twist and writhe with each others, and as strange as it sounds, it feels like we've been doing this for forever. It feels so good and seems so effortless.

I moan into his mouth at the taste and natural feel of him, which causes the hand fondling my breast to squeeze my flesh more firmly. His hips, begin to grind against me with more weight and purpose and it feels amazing. Things are escalating quickly and becoming more passionate by the second and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. I follow my instincts and sweep my unpinned leg over his hip. My foot, hooks his body, pulling him flush against me, and I can't help but lose myself in the feel of the man above me. I roll unhindered with every new feeling and growing urge.

Suddenly, things change.

More precisely, our kiss changes.

Christian's lips, slow, set, then lift from mine. I hear a curse leave his throat before he shudders in my arms and stops his delicious grinding against me.

No...

Oh fuck...

He's waking up.

I blatantly groan, fuelled with disappointment as my eyes reluctantly open and I begin to watch him closely. I'm wary of his reaction, but hoping for the best. Christian's eyes spring open and immediately meet mine. As the furrows deepen and take over his brow, I can feel the rigidity setting into him. As soon as his waking consciousness fully takes over and he realises what we're doing, his body shifts and his hands attempt to leave my skin. I tighten my hold on him, even using both my feet to lock him in place, because I really don't want him to move.

"Please, don't stop." I implore softly. My fingers, twisting and tightening in his hair.

"Ana..." Christian moans, his body, still lulling over mine.

"Please, Christian...keep touching me." I urge. My voice, sounding desperate and needy. I'll admit, I'm fully prepared to beg right now.

Wrapped around him, I push against him, trying to encourage him to keep moving but he remains determinedly static. I pull out the big guns, more than willing to play dirty, and when I hear his deep growl of pleasure because my fingers have ran from his hair, over his scarred shoulders and down his back, I know he still wants this.

"Ana...stop...please." Christian begs, but his head lowers and his lips begin to nuzzle into my neck as he does. I trail my fingers up and down his spine, knowing, his resolve is slipping.

"I can't, Christian. I need you." I tell him honestly, and that's all it takes for him to fall back into what we're doing.

Without anymore protest or hesitation from him, his lips leave my neck and return to mine. They mould and tease, and drive me crazy, but when he slowly runs his tongue under the inside of my top lip, I know I'm truly a gonna. I melt in response to the sensation. It's such a small action but the pleasure it induces is overwhelming, and I want more.

His hand, the one caressing my breast, moves more gently now that he's fully conscious and I'm so lost in his caressing that it takes a second for it to register when his fingers stop moving. Once I notice, I notice more. His entire body has suddenly stilled. Only his thumb, the one laying above my breast is daring to move. I open my eyes and pull back from him as his lips lose their passion and momentum.

Knowing what he's touching, I look up at him, hoping that this won't ruin our moment. Christian's eyes are dark, needy, mine, but then they widen, flood with regret and lower to his hand under my shirt. With a heavy despondent sigh, he bows his head and rests his brow against mine. He suddenly seems so overcome and distant, but I know I haven't lost him completely because I can still feel the soft pad of his thumb brushing, and lingering, over the indentation on my skin.

The indentation, that's only an inch above my heart.

Christian suddenly lifts himself up and rests on his elbow to look at me. I feel no shame or embarrassment as his eyes run up and down my body. When our eyes lock, I run my hand from his hair to his shoulder. Silently, my fingers mirror his and brush the mars on his flesh. I keep my movements small like his and sigh softly, satisfied, when his eyes roll closed and his chest rumbles deeply.

"More." I hear his heartfelt plea as his whole body shakes and covers mine.

Christian's breathing quickly becomes erratic as my hands begin to trawl up and down the contours of his back. My fingers fan out and gently run along the rounded grooves of his skin. I let my hands rest on the waist band of his sleep pants when he begins to murmur my name and shudders in my arms.

Abruptly, his eyes spring open and they're imploring and desperate as they burn into mine. He looks so torn, so undecided, and I'm suddenly engulfed by the pain I can see in them. I hold his stare as the emotions running through him are displayed on his face. I remain silent, hoping that he just needs time to get used to me being so close and touching him so freely, and that he's not having second thoughts about this. I see his eyes and features soften as a small smile creeps over his lips and I know he's still with me. Not that I had any real doubts, because throughout the past few silent minutes, his thumb has still been moving.

"Wha..."

"May I.."

We both utter at the same time.

"I need to see it." Christian whispers urgently, before removing his hand from my chest and taking hold of the edge of my T-shirt.

He begins to tug at my top, looking at me, seeking permission. I manage to nod my consent because I'm far too nervous to actually speak.

He wants to remove my shirt.

He's bare chested. I'll be bare chested. I'll be left only in my underwear and I've never been this close to a man before. My body buzzes with anticipation because I want this, but I can't stop my eyes from widening, nor my chest from involuntarily heaving. Christian reads my body and smiles down at me with understanding and it's all I need to find the confidence to lift myself up from the bed. Christian doesn't hesitate and swiftly pulls the T-shirt over my head.

As soon as I lay back down, his hand is upon me. He places his palm on my quivering stomach and once I gather the nerve to look at him, his hand begins to move. My body shudders as his fingers run slowly up my torso, through the swell of my breasts and come to rest on my heaving chest.

He holds my eye and once he feels my body calm, his fingers start to trace over my remnant from that night. His eyes leave mine so they can watch what he's doing. He's silent, appears sullen, as his index finger traces back and forth, over and over and over.

"This is so close to... You could have so easily been killed... You were so lucky... I'm so sorry." he breathes every few second, before lowering his head and kissing my scar.

His lips press firmly against my hot skin, and I wonder if he can feel how my heart is pounding. I moan, unguarded, as his lips begin to move across my chest and his hips fall back against me. Before I know it, my arms have swept around his head and I'm clinging to him tightly.

Christian chuckles against my skin, before mumbling something about having the need to breath. I loosen my hold on him, begrudgingly, then hum with pleasure when he doesn't pull away and starts running kisses up my arching throat. Once he reaches my lips, his kiss becomes more firm, more heated, more possessive.

"Ana, you mentioned how you've never gotten close to anybody...no boyfriend or...does that mean you've never..." he pants out against my lips. I flinch in his arms. I know this could go either way.

"No...but.." I reply around his lips, trying to keep our kiss going.

Christian pulls back and I can feel his hesitation, see his growing doubts. "Christian, please don't pull away from me. I want it to be you. I've never wanted anything so much." I tell him truthfully.

He rises above me and looks at me fully, and I'm dreading what he'll say next.

"Ana, I care for you, I truly do, but we hardly know each other. Your first time should be..."

Even though what Christian is about to say is a fair and valid point, I don't think I'm the only one to feel this spark, this draw, this need that we share.

"Christian." I interrupt him. "I feel like I've known you for forever, you've been a part of me for years. Tell me you don't feel this, this connection we have and..."

"I do," he says quickly, before placing a swift kiss on my lips. "But..."

"No buts Christian, please. I want this. I want this with you." I tell him firmly.

He staring down at me silently, and I can almost see the cogs turning behind his eyes as he ponders my words. He wants me, I know he does. So why is he so hesitant? Is my virginity so off putting? I can see his worry, his doubt and wariness, but I can also feel his want and growing lust for me. I'll cling to that, use it to my advantage, because I'm adamant, I'll not be leaving this bed a virgin.

Knowing how much he likes it, I run my hands gently over his shoulders. My body is alive, expectant, needy, so I'm using all I have. I arch my body upwards, mewling with content, when Christian groans deeply because my chest has met his. He's solid and strong above me, his arms locked and straight, but I cling to his rigid form, nuzzling against him.

"Please Christian, I need you. I've never felt like this before." I whisper against his throat. I feel his Adams apple bob against my lips as he swallows deeply and I don't hesitate to run my tongue over it.

"Anastasia." Christian growls, as his arms buckle and he's once again flush with me.

His lips claim mine dominantly and I can't help but moan into his mouth when his tongue invades mine. It's as if a switch has been thrown within him and I know once again he's all mine. His body becomes weighty over mine and he's suddenly all over me, all around me, and I don't know which sensation to revel in first.

His slow moving hips are causing a wonderful amount of friction and my legs tighten around him. His hand on my chest is roaming and teasing expertly and my body rolls with his movements. His hand in my hair is gripping the strands just tight enough to cause my scalp to tingle and send shivers down my spine, and I can't help but gasp. His lips, oh his amazing lips are tormenting my skin and I can't think straight.

"Slowly...slowly." I utter breathlessly, somewhat incoherently. I feel Christian's soft chuckle against my neck as his hands cease.

"Sorry, it just feels so good being this close to you. More so than I imagined." he says, before his assault on me begins again.

To give him more room to move, both my legs unravel from around him as our passion grows. Both his hands make their way into my hair and he holds me firmly in place as he kisses me. I run both my hands up his back and take hold of his shoulders as he continues to grind himself against me.

"Oh, God." I breathe against his lips. Throbbing internally, at the feel of his erection pushing against me. "You, are wearing far too many clothes." I pant against his mouth.

I boldly shift my leg, tucking my toe into the back of his loose fitting pants and attempt to push them off of him. Christian chuckles when I only get so far, but quickly rises up onto his knees to help me. I don't have time to react to the sight of a very impressive, naked Christian, because his eyes are all over me and it grabs my attention quickly. The sight of him trawling my body with his burning eyes has me squirming and my knees twitching to close. Christian, takes delight in knowing that he's effecting me and his eyes brighten as he smiles the most loving smile I've ever seen. My heart melts, knowing it's only for me.

"Are you sure?" he asks me suddenly, resting back on his heels further and looking at me purposefully.

The longer he looks down at me with his burning eyes, the more I want to just throw myself into his arms. I lick my lips, tightly gripping the sheets underneath me to keep me horizontal, and nod a slow, deliberate, yes. He smiles his wonderful, only for me smile and I return it when his body shudders in front of me.

Without taking his eyes away from mine, he drops his hands to his sides and takes hold of both my ankles. Simultaneously, he lifts them and brings my legs together in front of him, bending my knees so they are nearly touching my chest. He looms over me, kissing me with passion and purpose, before kneeling again and perusing my body from the advantage point he has.

His eyes are hot and hungry as they scour my body. I feel so exposed in this position. His eyes are on my ass and everything else that's on display to him but a delightful shiver runs through me at the thought of what's about to happen. It's so new, so thrilling, so erotic and I so want this with him.

Christian, takes hold of my underwear at my hips and rocks me backward until I'm almost resting on my shoulders. He effortlessly removes the only thing covering me, before tossing them over his shoulder like he doesn't have a care in the world. I can't help but giggle at his playfulness and eagerness, which causes him to smirk playfully in response. I feel like his eyes are burning into every part of me but his eyes don't leave mine for an instant.

My legs are still bent in front of him and he quickly takes hold of both my ankles in one of his large hands, and lifts them up. His eyes leave mine and run down my legs and the fire I see in them has my insides churning. I involuntarily moan as I feel a solitary finger trail down my thigh and over my exposed skin. The feeling of finally being touched so intimately is immense and floods me with desire.

"Christ, you're soaked...So responsive and ready." he praises as his fingers begin to explore.

My groans grow louder with his appraisal, and I blatantly begin to pant as he pulls my knees apart and leans forward.

"Christian..." I moan in protest or encouragement, I'm not quite sure.

"Shush, baby. Let me take care of you." he coos against my inner thigh, and what's a girl to do?

I melt into the mattress and lose myself in his teasing and tormenting of my body. With his expert tongue and very flexible fingers, it doesn't take long for me to reach the point where I'm filling the room with incoherent expletives and garbled forms of his name.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" I hear Christian murmuring close to my ear. Unaware, of how or when he made his way back up my body.

I give a mumbled murmur in response, refusing to pull myself away from the euphoria he's created within my mind and immobility over my body. I find the strength to wrap my arms around him and I cling to the feel of him, the smell of him, all of him as he continues to arouse me further.

His warm lips, nibble and suckle on my neck and earlobe, and my body is so ready for him. Christian must feel the same because he suddenly shifts his hips and his weight is back upon me. I hold still as I feel the tip of him run up and down my body, lubricating him as he prepares to enter me. I wrap my jelly legs around him in encouragement, moaning expectantly as he shifts the tip of himself inside of me.

"This may hurt, Ana. I'm...I'm sorry." Christian breathes against my neck as he begins to push himself forward.

"It's fine...It's fine..." I breathe out. "I've a toy or two at home...so I'm sure it'll be..." I freeze, when I realise what I'm admitting to without thinking, then cringe, when Christian pulls away from me in order to look at me.

"Fuck, why is that so hot?" he says with a soft growl, before kissing me possessively and pushing himself into me with one fluid motion.

A deep guttural, pleasure filled moan leaves me, or him, I'm not quite sure, but I do know, that no teasing myself with a toy over the years could compare to the man who is now inside of me. The man who is now mine.

Christian moans against my lips, it's a sound that's fuelled with pleasure and suddenly he begins to move. After the initial stretch of full penetration, it feels so good now that there's a rhythm, friction and every increasing stimulation.

Suddenly, Christian pulls his lips away from mine. I want to protest and reclaim them but before I can they're on my chest and he's kissing my scar. His hand leaves my hair and lowers between us. His incredible talented fingers slide down my torso and begin to tease my body. He coos and utters terms of endearment, then switches to cursing out encouragement. It doesn't take long for it all to become too much and my body falls and yields to him and his expertise.

A few minutes later we're both hot, sweaty, and if he feels anything like I do, then fully sated. We're laying side by side on his large, comfy bed and I don't have the energy to move a muscle.

"God, that was...you're amazing, do you know that?" Christian gushes as he roll onto his side to face me.

I want to mirror his movements and question him about how amazing and what happens now, but "Yeah..." is all I can manage.

Christian chuckles to himself as he pulls me tightly into his chest. I roll into his arms as they secure around me and I hum with pleasure as he lays himself back down, taking me with him.

"I thought it was a dream." I begin to mumble, fatigue and sleepiness suddenly engulfing me and clouding my brain.

"Shush, go to sleep, baby girl." he coos softly as he kisses my head and pulls the covers over us.

"No...not yet." I murmur against his chest but even without his urging, I'm already half a sleep.

I settle myself into him, his arms, holding me so tightly.

I fall asleep, eased by the heat he emits and the steady beat of his heart. Silently praying, he will still be with me when I wake.

.

A/N

Happy New Year, Everybody.


	38. Chapter 38 - Hope

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Chapter Thirty Eight.

Hope.

 _ **Christian.**_

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Stretching, to a bright, sunny morning, I turn in my bed eager to see Ana. Shooting upright in bed, I search the room with wide urgent eyes, when I realise the space beside me is vacant. Fuck, it wasn't a dream, I know it wasn't. I can still feel her warmth around me, can still smell her on my sheets, on me. My eyes fly around the room looking for anything to validate that I didn't hallucinate last night. I flop back onto the bed, chuckling out loud and buzzing with relief, once I notice our discarded clothes and Ana's shoes, still laying on the floor beside the bed.

"Thank, fuck." I curse, overwhelmed with relief knowing she's still around here somewhere.

Keen to find her, I leap from the bed, but as my feet hit the floor my good mood and heart simultaneously plummet. Tess' bed, is still in the corner of the room where it's been since I bought this place, but today, it's empty. By now, she would've shuffled her way from her bed to mine and be urging me to rise, but not today, nor any other day either.

The weight of her absence hits me hard and it's truly painful. I've relied on Tess so much over the years that I've no idea what to do without her. I'm going to miss her so much, but she's really gone and I have to face that sad fact, and accept it. I feel heavy tears build in my eyes as my throat tightens and I need to hold Ana. I need to hold her now, she's the only one that can erase this heartache and loss.

Pulling on my discarded sleep pants, and after paying a quick visit to the bathroom, I head out of the bedroom in search of her. I'm flooded with disappointment by the time I reach the kitchen and there's been no sign of her. I quickly check the rest of the downstairs before heading back into the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee is strong in the room and the pot is still hot, so I know she can't have gone far, or too long ago. Maybe, hopefully, she's just nipped home for a change of clothes or something.

Keeping my rising anxiety in check, and to give myself something to do, I help myself to coffee. I then head across the room to look out of the window, but it's only to appreciate the beauty of the day, and in no way to spy on my neighbour. My eyes get no further than the end of the deck. I smile, eased and content and despite the urge to run outside, I remain where I am, falling and indulging in the beautiful sight before me.

Ana, is sitting cross legged on a sun lounger about twenty feet away. She's hugging her coffee cup close to her chest as she looks out over the sand and calm sea. She's dressed only in my dress shirt from last night, and with her hair loose and flowing, by Christ, she looks beautiful. As I watch her, lost in her own little world, I wonder if last night has changed anything for her. It has for me. I don't want to let her go, I don't want to be without her. Not now.

Will she feel the same way? Will she want to stay with me? God, I hope so.

As if Ana can hear my mental hopes and desires, she uncurls her legs and snuggles herself down into the sun lounger. She smiles serenely to herself as her eyes drop closed and even with the distance between us, I can see the flush spread and highlight her cheeks.

I've a good idea what she's thinking about and I don't blame her. Last night, was full of firsts for the both of us. Last night, was something else. I've never been that close to a woman before. Never allowed a woman to be unrestrained and able to touch me so freely. I've never slept with a woman in my bed, I've also never slept so well. It was uninterrupted and dream free, full of heat and a consuming calmness. I loved every second of it, but I know it's only because it was Ana beside me. I've never found, or felt, anything that has come close to that before, and how I felt when she touched me was unexpected and sublime. I want her to touch me again, constantly.

I'm still a bit unsure of how I feel, or how I should act around her, but being with her feels right. I feel complete with her around me and I want to be with her. I want to lay my world at her feet and feel that I need to share it with her. I just hope she feels the same way. I know she feels something, she wouldn't have attended the Gala last night if she didn't, but how deep do her feelings go?

I can't believe how blatantly I shunned her at the Gala, if I'd have known she was attending I would have seated her close and danced with her all night. The evening could have been so different, but sadly, there was an inevitable outcome that no one could have foreseen. I will be forever grateful that Ana was there when I really needed her. I want to keep her close, but even if she decides against that she will never forget me. I was her first lover, and that's something special, right?

She said she wants to get to know me, be close to me. I've only strengthened that desire within her now, surely. I know last night was soul awakening for me, it proved how much time I've wasted on others. Will Ana think the same? Will she want me all the more now? I hope so. She's mine. I know she is. The feel of her touching my skin, the feel of her writhing under me and mirroring my movements, it was all so instinctual between us, for both of us. She must have felt that?

I was so at ease with her that I never worried for a second that she'd feel my marred flesh and be repulsed. The feel of her fingers on my skin was so euphoric that they brought on one of the most powerful orgasms and connections I've ever felt. She's a part of me. I know she is. I can't let her go. I don't want to let her go. I won't let her go. Not now.

I wonder if she'd consider moving in here with me? Her living only a few doors down is just wasted money. I wonder if she'd prefer to live in Escala? Does she even like the city? Maybe we could buy something together. Something with a view and a big yard. Maybe we could get a pup one day, together this time. Fuck, I'm getting so far ahead of myself here. I haven't even wished her good morning yet, and I already have her shackled to me for life. It's a very intriguing thought, though.

Ana, finishes her coffee and places her cup on the deck as I place mine in the sink in front of me. I keep my eyes fixed on her through the windows as I cross the kitchen and head out onto the deck. Ana's face brightens as soon as she sees me and I feel lighter instantly. She wants to be here. I can see that she does. I have the sudden, and very strong urge to throw her over my shoulder and run back upstairs with her.

She smiles up at me as her cheeks flush and she really is lovely, inside and out. On a day like today, all freshly mused, wearing no makeup, her hair blowing in the soft breeze and wearing only my shirt, she truly is breath taking. Fuck, I don't want her to leave.

"Morning, beautiful." I purr as I approach her.

Ana shuffles nervously on her sun lounger as my gaze leaves hers to trail down her shapely form. My eyes meet hers on their return journey, and there it is. What I've been searching and longing for. The spark, the connection, the ease. She smiles up at me coyly and by Christ, I want to hold her.

"Dance with me, Annie." I utter softly, offering her my hand as soon as inspiration strikes.

It's a good way as any to get my hands on her, and right now, I'm very keen to touch her. Her eyes flicker nervously for just a second before she shrieks with joy and jumps up onto the sun lounger. Surprisingly, she seems to want to be as close to me as I do to her, because she then throws herself into my arms.

Fuck, that was easy. She's right where I want her to be, and I didn't even have to beg.

"What are we supposed to be dancing too?" She asks, after she wraps her legs around me and I place my hands on her lower back to hold her more securely.

"We could always dance to the erratic beat of your heart." I reply. Chuckling to myself at her clear display of exuberance.

Placing my lips against the throbbing pulse on her throat, just to prove my point, causes her to mewl and her arms to tighten around my neck. I revel in her warmth and closeness, before swaying my body from side to side. She moans louder, squirming against me as I begin humming some random melody against her throat.

"Can't we just go back to bed, instead?" she breathes after a few moments. Her neck bowing into my lips as her legs tighten around my hips.

I laugh softly against her throat as I feel her skin heat with her embarrassment. She obviously didn't mean to say that out loud. "You want to go back to bed?" I ask, feigning shock at her brazen statement, but secretly, very eager to comply and highly amused.

"Yes. I... enjo..loved... last night and wish to do it again." She admits, her flush spreading further down her neck as I pull away to look at her.

"You don't want breakfast?" I ask, teasing to prolonging her torment.

She shakes her head in decline adamantly and I'm overjoyed with her response, her eagerness, and her clear candour.

"No, I really, really want to go back to bed... with you, right now." She retorts firmly, her confidence growing as my hands begin to wonder down over the swell of her ass.

"You're a demanding little thing, aren't you?" I utter playfully, before nuzzling into her throat and giving her behind a firm squeeze.

"Oh...you...you haven't heard my demands...yet... Mr Grey." Ana attempts to say with conviction, but only manages to moan and mumble incoherently into my ear.

"Oh, Miss Steele, I can't wait to hear them." I whisper, teasing her further.

I keep my lips busy, trying to control my laughter as Ana writhes in my arm. She moans loudly as I blow softly into the shell of her ear and tug the lobe into my mouth with my teeth. I'm truly loving her show of arousal and desire for me.

"Well, I demand that you take me back upstairs and never let me leave." she replies clearly and with no embarrassment at all.

I bury my smug smile into her warm, goose bump ridden flesh. I'm overjoyed that my silent prayers have been answered by her unexpected, but delightful request.

The grin takes over my face as I pull her close and without another word my feet begin to move. My chest rumbles with the euphoria I feel as I make a dash for the house. Ana squeals excitedly in my arms, holding on to me for dear life.

"What are you laughing at?" Ana asks quizzically as my laughter grows deep and loud.

"Oh, nothing. I just have a feeling that today is going to be a good day. A very good day indeed." I taunt her before winking suggestively at her.

"Hhm. I think so too." She replies, as her fingers entwine with my hair and her lips run up my throat.

"Fuck, Ana." I curse with a growl at the feelings she induces within me.

"Yes, please." Ana purrs into my neck and my feet take flight.

Once we enter the bedroom, I lunge for the bed once it's in range. I turn my shoulder into the mattress at the last moment, so that when I land, Ana is on top of me.

"Oh, I like you in this position, Mr Grey." Ana coos as she unwraps her arms from around me and trails her hands down my bare chest.

She surprises me, when she shuffles her legs free and sets herself down on top of my rock hard erection. Why is it, every time I manage to get her into my lap I'm wearing pants.

"Because you've brought me back to bed, does this mean you agree to my terms, Mr Grey?" Ana questions sweetly.

I nod, completely enthralled by the sight of her on top of me, all aroused and wearing only my shirt. When Ana takes hold of both my nipples and rolls them between her fingers, I grip the sheets beside me to stop myself from taking hold and just ripping the shirt wide open.

"Aren't you even going to try and negotiate with me?" Ana goads as she begins to grind herself firmly against me.

Totally unaware of the effect she's having on me, even though she can feel it to a certain degree, I roll with it all. I'm ultimately consumed by her every topping from the bottom move and just shake my head at her. I'm completely blown away by her and her growing bravado, not to mention how it feels because she's so close and taking control.

"No negotiating, Anastasia... I agree to your terms completely." I vow wholeheartedly and firmly. My eyes not leaving hers. Ana smiles down at me as she lowers her lips to mine.

"I thought you were some hot shot CEO?" she taunts against my lips, and before I can even think of a reply her lips claime mine passionately and I'm lost to her completely.

After a few gloriously minutes of giving her free rein over my body with her lips and hands, I can't contain myself any longer. I love her warmth, her familiarity, not to mention how she makes me yield to her. After everything we've both been though, all the pain we've endured, I can't lose this. We, can't lose this.

Taking hold of her hips in both my hands, I fluidly flip us over. She squeals in surprise when she lands on her back but my lips find hers before she can utter a single word. I pour everything I feel, but can't yet say, into our kiss, before lifting my lips from hers.

She smiles up at me, lovingly, clearly thrilled with where we are and what we're doing, but it dawns on me the longer I look down at her that I have a demand of my own.

"Forgive me, but I also have a demand...an amendment...a request." I state in between kisses to her soft, smiling lips.

"Oh you do, do you?" Ana baits as she wraps her arms tightly around me.

She looks up at me with such passion that I know this is the right thing to do. No matter how soon, or out of character this may be for me, I know it's the only thing I can do. It's the only thing I want to do. I need to do this, and I need to do it now. The thought of being without her is genuinely terrifying and something I never want to live with again.

"What's your demand?" Ana whispers, breaking my panic fuelled train of thought and the silence that's developed around us.

"Marry me..." I breathe reverently, before I lose my nerve, doubt myself, or even contemplate what her response could be.

.


	39. Chapter 39 - Proposal

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Chapter Thirty Nine.

 _ **Ana.**_

Proposal.

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As Christian hovers above me, I can see that he's holding his breath. He looks nervous, or should I say terrified. His entire body is set and on edge as he waits for my reply. He's been staring down at me for a good few minutes now and his eyes have gone from hot and loving, to imploring and doubt filled, to finally settle on full blown panic.

I find myself mirroring his expression, unable to comprehend that he's actually proposed. I'm completely stumped and have no idea if I can respond coherently right now. The emotions running through me at this precise moment are unexpected, very powerful and totally alien to me. What on earth am I supposed to say to him?

Ultimately, I know that I want to be with Christian, get to know him and be a part of his life, but marriage, that's never even entered my head. Could we possibly get married and have a future together as husband and wife?

Last night meant everything. I know it's changed everything between us. It's changed me. I feel like it was more than just a one time thing between us though, last night, connected us completely. Not only because I lost my virginity with him, and despite what we've both shared and lived through these past ten years, I feel that it goes deeper than that. Christian, obviously feels the same way or he wouldn't be acting so impulsively. He probably thinks I'm going to run from him again, but hell, after last night, there's no chance of that.

But marriage, that's an entirely different ball game all together.

The longer I gaze up at Christian, all stunned, wide eyed, and mute, the more his confidence dwindles. He's grown more and more apprehensive during my silence and I really need to say something to ease him. I just can't think of anything that would make sense. Christians body suddenly slumps as his eyes leave mine and I know that I've ran out of time.

"No, please don't move." I exclaim with urgency as I feel his body begin to lift.

"Ana, I..." he begins nervously.

"No, you don't have to say anything," I interrupt him, which thankfully, causes him to remain above me. "I'm sorry I haven't answered you, I'm just shocked. Truthfully, I'm completely blown away and I've no idea what to say in response. I never expected this or..."

My voice tapers off as I get caught up in the desperation now swimming in his eyes. He suddenly looks so unsure of himself, and if I'm not mistaken, deeply regretful.

"I'm sorry Ana, I shouldn't have asked. It was rash and stup..." Christian begins, but I shake my head at him.

"No Christian, you don't have to apologise, or explain. I understand why you did it." I state knowingly.

Christian's eyebrow quirks in question but he doesn't speak.

"You're scared. You no doubt think I'll disappear or leave you again, but I won't." I tell him firmly.

His eyes widen a fraction and I know that my guess is correct and the reason behind his impromptu proposal is fear. He stares down at me, keeping his face impassive, and I know he's not going to say anything.

I purposefully hold his eye, trying my best to read him. I need him to open up and talk to me. I need to know what he's afraid of.

"I need to ask you something... before I give you an answer." I utter cautiously, when his face gives nothing away.

"Anything." Christian declares, his eyes brightening with excitement and surprise when he realises that I'm considering his offer.

If I'm honest, it surprises me too.

"Where does love fit into this?" I ask before I can stop myself.

Christian's eyes widen with bewilderment, instead of the shock I expected from my unfiltered question.

"Do you feel any love for me at all?" I blurt out further before I lose my nerve. His eyes widen a fraction before he replies.

"Love..." He mutters to himself, testing the word with interest and growing bemusement.

I watch him, hovering above me, fighting to control my smile at the look that's now on his face. He's contemplating, mouthing words to himself as he looks down at me, but I'm not worried. The longer I look up at him, the lighter and more jovial his eyes are becoming.

"Love?" he repeats again and I nod expectantly. Hoping that he'll open up to me.

"I've never thought about love. Don't get me wrong, I know I need you and I want you... but I've never..."

Christian begins speaking so surely but suddenly becomes flustered. He seems unable to find the words to express himself, which causes him to frown. He's growing annoyed and frustrated with himself, and I want to chuckle at the small boy he now resembles. There's definitely no sign of the confident CEO that he normally is, right now.

"Please, tell me how you feel, Christian. I need to understand what you're thinking and why you've proposed to me." I encourage him softly, while wrapping my arms around his lower back in an attempt to sooth him.

Christian, nods his head in agreement as he settles over me. He smiles to himself, looking content as my thumbs begin to brush back and forth across his lower back. Then, he does something I never would've expected, he flushes. I smile up at him, secretly delighted with his awkwardness. Relieved, that I'm not the only one blown away by this situation. Christian gazes down at me, his eyes full of uncertainty, but it doesn't take him long to gather his thoughts and look more determined. He's soon sure of himself, confident and appears comfortable with what he's about to say.

"I'm unsure of how to express my feelings for you Ana, when I don't even understand them myself. This is all new to me, so I've no idea what I'm supposed to say in order to reassure you. I do know that I want you, I want you beside me. I need you in my life." He states firmly. "After last night, I never want to be without you again. I..."

"Me neither." I interrupt, causing Christian to smirk down at me. He's clearly delighted.

"I know this is something new for both of us, and ridiculously fast, but I don't want to lose you, Anastasia. I feel so close to you and somehow complete when I'm with you. I.."

"Me, too." I butt in again, unable to keep the stupid grin from taking over my face. "But...don't you think it's too soon? No matter what we both feel for each other, getting married is a bit extreme. It's impulsive. We hardly know each other, Christian." I state soberly.

I'm hesitant to upset the mood we've created but I can't help expressing my doubts. Despite the excitement I feel with his candour and equal need for me, it is a life changing decision, and one we shouldn't take lightly. Christian smiles at me with understanding before kissing me gently.

"It is soon and extremely impulsive, I agree, but why can't we just go with what we feel? We can get to know each other after we're married." He says simply, adding a casual one shoulder shrug when I just gape at him.

Even though I've felt close to Christian, ever since that fateful night and I know a lot about him, we've never really spent any true quality time together. I feel so much for him, it's strong and very powerful, I also don't want to lose him, but our time together has been...

Christian, tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His thumb lingers, softly tracing the shell. I feel him draw closer, then his lips begin sweeping up and down my throat. My eyes close and I can't help but involuntarily hum at his gentle touch and easily, and rapidly, fall into what he's making me feel. Boy, what he makes me feel. Maybe he's right and I should just...

My entire body freezes and my eyes fly open, when I feel Christian chuckling softly against my neck. The spell he's put me under is suddenly broken and I know he's doing this on purpose to distract me and keep me from over analysing. It nearly worked too. I totally lost my train of thought and that pisses me off. I shift my head to the side and place my hands on Christians chest, pushing him away. Ignoring his groan of frustration and cheeky grin I glare up at him.

"What if we find we can't stand each other?" I state logically, once his lips have left my skin and my brain has cleared.

"I doubt that very much." Christian chuffs, before attempting to reclaim my throat. I brace my arms in front of me, my palms flat on his chest, trying to keep his hypnotic lips at bay.

"You can't know that. All the annoying little habits that we both have will soon appear, and once they do, we'll drive each other crazy. Over time we..."

Christian chuckles further but doesn't say anything or try and contradict me, he just brushes my hands aside then covers my rambling lips with his. They're soft, gentle, full of unspoken need, desire and promise, and I'm soon fully hypnotised, and totally his. It's a good few minutes before we both give into the need to breathe again, and for me, coherent thought to return. Christian, speaks as soon as his lips leave mine.

"Please, say yes." He whispers.

"Yes." I reply instinctively, while stretching out my neck trying to relocate his lips.

"Really?" He asks sharply, pulling back to look at me.

"Yes." I repeat as my eyes flutter open.

"Thank, fuck." He curses, before exhaling deeply.

Christians lips fall back to mine and our kiss escalates quickly. His comforting weight is covering me and his hands are soon on the prowl under my shirt. My body shivers under him at the memory of what we shared last night and I revel, knowing we're about to do it again. After what I've just agreed too, we will no doubt be doing this a lot.

"I need you. I need you, now." Christian breathes urgently against my hot skin as if he's read my mind.

Before I have a chance to respond, reply or react, Christian, is tugging at the front of his sleep pants, slipping my underwear to the side and sliding into me fluidly. As he sinks into me, my arms and legs wrap around him, holding him firmly in place.

"God, you feel amazing." I manage to say through my mewling.

"You, stole my line." Christian growls against my neck as his body begins to move.

My giggle sticks in my throat as his lips claim, his hands take hold and his pace picks up.

The heat, the passion, the euphoria builds and builds between us and soon it's exploding and rushing right through us. Uniting us, bonding us, solidifying us, completely.

I want this, this man, this feeling, to last a lifetime. I know this is how it's supposed to be when you find _The One_ , and there's no way I'm going to risk losing this over a few seeds of doubt that I may have.

My orgasm takes over me as it hits me that I'm actually going to be getting married. This man, this amazing, wonderful man, will soon be mine. I cling to him with all of my heart as I fall apart in his arms.

Minutes later, we're both content, sated, lifeless, entwined on Christian's bed.

"You don't know how amazing it feels to be with you like this." Christian utters, before exhaling deeply against my chest where his head is now resting.

"I do." I whisper softly, smiling to myself.

Even though my chest is partly covered by his shirt, my fingers are running slowly through his hair and I swear I can feel him purring.

"No one, has ever been able to touch me like you can." Christian adds.

Sadly, I know he's speaking the truth.

"I can stop." I tease, attempting to move from underneath him, and lighten my darkening mood.

"No, don't you dare." he demands, while laughing and holding onto me tightly.

"It feels wonderful to be touched and not have to worry." Christian says with another deep, blissed out sigh.

"Why would you worry? I love touching you." I tell him truthfully as my fingers run slowly down his neck.

"What...what you feel, doesn't repulse you?" he asks me quietly, when my fingers reach his shoulders.

"No, of course not." I tell him with conviction as my fingers purposefully linger, tracing over the contours of his damaged skin.

He murmurs against my chest at the contact, wrapping himself more securely around me. If, that's even possible. I smile to myself as I feel his full body weight, knowing, that he's fully comfortable and relaxed here with me. It's heart breaking to know that he's never had this before. That he's been afraid of this. Could Leila, or who ever came before her, have held him like this, been this emotionally close to him, if he'd have only opened up to them? We'll never know, but I'm over joyed that I was the one that was able to break through his defences.

"You're heaven sent, do you know that?" Christian utters softly, when my arms tighten around him.

"I'm glad you think so, we are getting married after all." I retort with a giggle and a smug smile.

Christian, doesn't say anything, he just lifts his head, places a firm kiss on my scar and floors me when he begins to murmur against my chest.

"Mrs Grey...Mrs Grey...Mrs Grey."

My heartbeat, involuntarily picks up at the feel of his lips and even though I've agreed to marry him, and it's what I want, it doesn't stop the deep gulp of panic his words cause from sticking in my throat.

I'm stunned, mute and frozen solid because it's really happening. I'm getting married.

I'm going to be changing my name.

Christian sniggers against me when he feels my response, but continues to kiss and tease my skin until I ease. Which, doesn't take long.

"Don't worry. Everything will work out, I promise." he assures me.

I've no chance to respond because his lips have trawled there way back to mine and my body is bewitched, but that doesn't stop my thoughts from racing. Everything seems so surreal and just to good to be true. I can't begin to explain how much Christian has grown to mean to me, and I don't regret saying _yes,_ but I can't stop worrying because we know so little about each other.

Is it wrong to let what you feel, over rule, rational thought?

I know enough about myself to know that I don't ever want to be without Christian. The thought of being without him, not being able to share this with him again, has my heart pounding for a completely different reason, so I know my decision, whether rushed or not, is right. My head, just needs to catch up with my heart.

Once my nerves and butterflies have fully dispelled, our kiss escalates. Christian, has my full attention and I know what I'm feeling right now can't be wrong. A rush of cool air alerts me to the fact that Christian has pulled away from me. He's risen from my chest and is resting on his elbow looking at me. I don't have a chance to chastise him for breaking our kiss because his eyes are pinched and very serious all of a sudden.

"What is it?" I ask, curious to know what's gotten into him and why he's stopped kissing me.

"Will...will we be having a long, drawn out engagement?" he asks me almost warily.

I bite on my lip, because even though I haven't had long to digest the fact that I'm getting married, never mind when, I want to belly laugh at the expression on Christians face.

"Maybe." I tease, pretending to consider the idea.

Christian, doesn't like that thought, not even in jest. His brow creases and his eyes bore into mine as he shakes his head in disagreement.

"We could fly out to Vegas today. I can have the jet ready in half an hour, Taylor can..." he begins with earnest.

"Whoa. Now that's too soon." I interrupt him quickly.

Even though my heart is pounding at his suggestion, I can't contain my laughter when he appears to almost pout at me.

"You're so impatient." I tease him.

"No, I'm just eager." he says with a shrug. "I don't want to wait too long."

"We don't have to rush. We could live together first. Get to know ..." I begin.

"Ana, you don't understand," Christian interrupts me sharply. "I've never imagined myself being married to anyone. I love how I feel when I'm with you. If marrying you will guarantee my keeping that, then I'm eager to do it as soon as possible." He sounds so passionate and determined. My heart goes out to him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Christian. I promise." I reassure him, running my fingers up his neck and into his hair.

"You say that now, but who knows what's down the road. I just don't want to lose you, again."

"You won't, I feel the same way about you."

Knowing, that despite my doubts, I do.

"You do?" he asks quietly.

"Yes. I don't want to be without you, either." I confirm wholeheartedly as he takes hold of my hand and places a firm kiss on my palm. I giggle at the sensation, before squealing in surprise.

Christian, takes hold of my hip and rolls, pulling me with him so I'm now on top of him. I continue to chuckle as I rise up onto my knees and straddle his waist. I can feel him underneath me and can't help but squirm against him.

"Say it again." Christian demands as he runs his hands up my thighs and holds me still.

His eyes tell me what he wants to hear.

"Yes, I'll marry you, Christian Grey. Happily." I state with feeling.

Christian's eyes burn fiercely into mine and I gasp, when he rips my shirt wide open and pulls me into him so that we're skin on skin.

"Once you're my wife and vow to obey me, we're going to be sleeping like this every night." Christian states with a deep chuckle after holding me close for a few silent minutes.

I giggle against him as I chuff out the word. "Obey." Then squirm away from his playfully, nipping fingers.

"I'm more than happy to sleep with you like this, but I don't think my knees would appreciate it after a few nights." I tell him honestly as I shuffle off my knees and straighten out my body.

I'm sprawled on top of him, my legs, falling either side of one of his. Christian, wastes no time in removing my shirt and wrapping his arms and free leg around me, securely.

"This, is kind of nice." I say as I nuzzle into his chest and bask in the warmth from his skin.

"You've no idea." he replies, kissing the top of my head. "If I have my way, you'll soon be my wife." Christian whispers into my hair as his arms tighten around my shoulders. I'm unsure if he wanted me to hear that or not, so I keep my reply to myself.

I understand that he's craved this ease, this physical contact with no restrictions or worry, but I won't rush into getting married. Our being engaged is enough for now, it gives him the security he needs and me, the space to get my head around the fact that I'm going to be a married women. I'm going to be marrying into a family and my life is going to change, dramatically.

"Your family, will be shocked when they find out about this. They haven't even met me properly." I mutter out loud, causing Christian to chuckle.

"My Mother, will be ecstatic. Happy that I've found someone. My Sister, who you've survived meeting, will no doubt love you, and Elliot, he knows all about you, already."

"He does?" I ask, sounding as surprised as I feel. I lift myself and rest my head in my palm to look at him. I didn't think anybody knew.

"Yes. I told him all about you, last night, funnily enough." Christian says with a small smile, his eyes, sleepy and half closed eyes.

"He knows everything?" I ask. Christian nods in response. "How did he take it?" I continue, genuinely interested to know what his family think about the secret he's kept to himself for so many years.

Christian chuckles to himself before speaking. He's smiling broadly. "It was good to talk to him, he was really supportive. He also thought I was an idiot, but he did advise me to ask you out for coffee." Christian laughs softly and it's good to see him so relaxed and open.

"He'll be surprised to learn that we've skipped right over, coffee." I retort, causing Christian to laugh louder.

Suddenly, Christian's phone begins to hum and shimmy along the wooden top of the bedside cabinet, where it's sat, silently, until now. Begrudgingly, I slide away from Christian so he can roll over to reach it.

"Speak of the devil." Christian says as he checks the display.

"Good morning, Elliot." Christian greets his brother cheerfully.

He flops back onto the bed beside me, looking up at the ceiling with a wide grin plastered on his face. I suddenly hear his voice lower and I watch, silently, as his entire demeanour changes.

"No...No...We lost her." He whispers.

Christian, rises up slowly, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His head, hits his palm as his elbows hit his knees, and I tune out the rest of his conversation.

When I see the sadness rippling through his body, I don't think, I just react to the sight of him hurting and clamber up onto my knees. I crawl across the bed until I reach him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. His body is hard, rigid and controlled under my hands and chest as he fights to contain his feelings. When I hear his voice break, I begin placing soft kisses across his shoulder blade and when it all becomes too much for him, he quickly ends the call.

He's silent, looking down at the phone in his hands, and I can feel the heartbreak welling up inside of him. I'm unsure of what to say to him but I know that I need to be touching him. After a few silent minutes, I feel his body relax under my hands and know that it's time to talk.

"I know you're hurting right now, but take comfort in knowing that she's in a better place." I whisper close to his ear as my arms drop and cross over his chest.

"I do. I'm just going to miss her, so much." He whispers, his hands, lifting to cover my arms.

"I know." I murmur as I snuggle against him.

"You make her loss more tolerable. I think I'd be lost without you, right now." Christian admits, before turning and placing a soft kiss on my temple.

"I'll never leave you." I assure him.

"Never?" he questions.

"No." I tell him adamantly.

I squeal with delight and surprise, when he suddenly turns, grabs my arm and hip and swings me around his torso so that I'm now sat across his lap. His arms wrap around me as his lips cover mine and my laughter is soon smothered and forgotten. Our kiss is slow, sensual, meaningful, and I know this is meant to be. This, is where I belong.

"I think I could easily fall in love with you...soon to be, Mrs Grey." Christian murmurs against my throat before his lips begin to assault my skin.

"I like the sound of that." I purr as my body turns to jelly under his hands.

"Me too." Christian whispers, before laying me down on the bed.

We kiss, explore and things get heated quickly, until Christians phone rings and spoils it all. He curses as he reaches blindly for it, knocking over an empty glass in the process. I hide my chuckle, when he has no other choice but to pull away from me in order to reach it.

"Fuck, it's my mom." Christian exclaims after checking his phone, he's clearly debating with himself whether to take the call or not. "Elliot must have told her about Tess, she'll no doubt want..."

"Answer the call, it's fine. I need to take a shower anyway." I interrupt, realising that a cool shower is the only way for me to regain control of my body.

"You do?" he asks, looking a bit put out by my statement.

"Yes." I clarify, rolling towards the other side of the bed.

"But things were just getting interesting." he says playfully.

"Yes, they were, but we can't stay in bed all day." I state the obvious. No matter how tempting it may be.

"Why not?" he retorts with a smirk and a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Why not." I repeat, laughing to myself, shaking my head and avoiding his out stretched hand. I head for the bathroom. "Is that really all you want to do today?" I ask as I reach the bathroom door.

I turn on my heel when I get no reply, only to find that he's standing directly behind me.

I don't get a chance to put any distance between us before Christian takes hold of my hip and pulls me close to him. The heat from his body is consuming and I'm soon lost in his lust filled gaze and nearness, and he knows it.

"Well no, I thought we could hit the beach, take in some sun...maybe take a stroll...maybe visit next door and pick up all your belongings." Christian purrs as he nuzzles into my neck and his hands run up my body to entwine in my hair.

"Oh, really?" I ask, laughing loudly. I feel him nod against me. "You really want me to move in with you, today?" I ask dubiously.

"Yes." he states passionately, pulling away from me to look at me squarely.

"Why?" I question, shocked by his request, but secretly loving the fact that he doesn't want me to leave him.

Christian, looks at me as if it's obvious. His eyes, bright and amused. He looks so happy in this moment and I never want him to lose this feeling.

"Well, the sooner I can get you under my roof, the sooner I can work on you becoming my wife." Christian explains with honesty.

My heart flips at his confession. My response, sticking in my throat when he begins kissing me with everything he has.

When I feel myself being lifted into his arms, my body bows and wraps its self around his automatically.

My shower, his phone call, everything around us, is completely forgotten as he carries me back to his bed so we can finish what we started earlier.

The last thing I hear before I'm consumed by our love making, are the soft reverent words that fall from Christians lips.

"I...I love you... Ana."

Right or wrong, this man is my life now and I never want to be without him. I know in my heart that I'm in love with him too, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure this works between us.

As I'm sure, will he.

.

.

A/N

Forgive my lack of updates. Real life sucks when it takes over and allows no time for FF, but sometimes it's unavoidable.

Thanks for sticking with this. Donna.x


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